


Drunk on You

by WhenInDoubtSleep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, College AU, Complete, Drinking, Graduate School, Jealous Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Porn With Plot, Saxophone player!keith, Self-Indulgent, Shenanigans, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Song: Medicine (Harry Styles), Songfic, Teacher-Student Relationship, Weed, college party, except not really, i just love this one so much, it's awkward and cute, please enjoy this, saxophone player!Lance, they love eachother okay, undergraduate!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-06-28 04:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenInDoubtSleep/pseuds/WhenInDoubtSleep
Summary: Lance had made a lot of really big mistakes in his life. But he really hadn't meant to get drunk and sleep with the handsome stranger. And he really hadn't meant for that stranger to be the Graduate assistant that he is supposed to take saxophone lessons from.“You’re very forward,” Keith noted, sounding surprised, and Lance grinned wider, eyes snapping up to look the pale boy in the eyes.“Oh, you have no idea.”College AU, Music School AU





	1. Wasted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I'm wasted.

Lance had done a lot of really stupid things in his short eighteen years on planet earth. Like when he was ten and had no impulse control, and he had hit his fourth-grade teacher square in the forehead with a spitball (He had a meeting with the principal). And in middle school, he had serenaded Katherine Lang, the most popular girl in the school, in the cafeteria while standing on a table because he wanted to go on a date with her (she pantsed him). And the entirety of his high school career had been one embarrassment after the next.

But he had promised himself that Garrison University would be his fresh start. Gone were the days of Lance epically fucking up and making a fool of himself. Or so he thought.

But here, standing outside of his lesson teacher’s office, eyes blown wide as he stares at its occupant, he knows that he has fucked up yet again. Maybe even worse than normal. His Saxophone feels heavy in his left hand, and he swallows thickly, trying to produce some kind of sentence, anything to end this discomfort.

It had been an accident, really. He hadn’t _meant_ to get drunk at the bar and sleep with anyone (especially not the graduate student that was teaching him this semester). But the bartender hadn’t asked for an id, and tequila was calling his name. It was saying _celebrate, Lance! You got into the school of your dreams, and your music career starts now!_

Stupid tequila. And stupid mullet boy, looking all cute and lonely while he sipped his whiskey or whatever stupid, refined drink he had been drinking.

Speaking of mullet head, he looked just as surprised to see Lance standing there, reaching a hand up to push his too-long hair out of his face.

 

_Lance could have gotten drunk just off of the beautiful noises that spilled from the pale boy’s lips as he tugged on his long hair, pinning him against the cold brick wall outside of the bar. He tasted like whiskey and smelled like cheap cologne, but in Lance’s alcohol induced haze, nothing had ever been sexier._

 

“Hi.” Lance said dumbly, wondering if it would be stupid to pretend that they hadn’t met before. Or if he could get a new lesson teacher. Or if he should drop out of school.

“Good morning,” Keith said, glancing down at the saxophone in the tan boy’s hand, “Lance. McClain. You’re Lance McClain...my Freshman saxophone student.” And Lance is almost relieved by how stupid he also sounds.

 

_“Hello, beautiful.” He had said to the man, sitting beside him at the bar, spinning too far on the bar stool. The dark haired boy glanced his way, eyebrows knit together in what looked like...frustration, maybe? Lance didn’t care, shooting him a toothy grin._

_“You here all alone?” He asked next, and the boy tensed a little, nodding once, and Lance faked a dramatic pout._

_“Well, now. That doesn’t make any sense. A pretty thing like you alone at the bar.” He said, still grinning. The boy turned to him, taking the last gulp of whatever he was drinking. He seemed like the strong silent type. Lance thought that was super hot._

_“You’re pretty drunk.” He said curtly, and Lance just nodded slowly, still smiling at him._

_“Yup! I am. And I also think that you’re gorgeous. The name’s Lance.” He added, winking once at the man beside him._

 

“Yes. Lance is me.” He cringed at how fucking awkward that was, looking away from the older boy’s face, trying to find anything else to focus his gaze on.

“Well...come in, I guess. I’m Keith Kogane.” He says, and Lance tenses because he had obviously already known Keith’s name, even if it had taken a while for the pale boy to tell him.

“Uhm, Mr.-”

“Keith,” He stresses, seeming incredibly uncomfortable, “You can call me Keith. God, please don’t call me Mr. Kogane.” He forces out, gesturing to a chair in the middle of the room.

Lance sits down, moving the stand a few inches so that he could clearly see Keith’s face.

“We usually don’t play in a first lesson. I  need to...er...get to know you a little bit first.” He informs, and Lance wondered if they were really going to sit here and small talk.

 

_“Not very chatty, are you, mullet?” He asked, and Keith raised his eyebrows, shaking his head slowly, an amused smile illuminating his face. Wow, what a pretty boy...with a trashy haircut._

_“Well, don’t worry. I talk a lot. I’m always loud.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down in a lame attempt to woo the other boy._

_He snorted. Mullet boy legitimately snorted, his nose scrunching up and_

_“Oh my god… that was so cute. Mullet, you’re_ cute _! Isn’t it like...illegal for people with mullets to be cute. I think that’s like...in  the constitution.” He blabs, leaning in closer to the boy._

_“I would offer to buy you a drink to shut you up, but you reek of tequila, and I think you should be cut off.” He says, grimacing._

_“Let me buy you a shot.” Lance says, calling over the bartender, “Can he have a shot of Te-”_

_“Vodka. Sobieski if you have it.” He interrupted, glancing at the tan boy who was leaning on the bar. A moment later, there was a shot placed in front of Keith, and he told the bartender politely that the shot belonged on the other man’s tab._

_“What are you, a sorority girl? Who does vodka shots?”_

_“Sane people who know that tequila tastes like actual shit.” Keith fired back, taking the shot and slamming it down, looking over at the other boy._

_“Lance, you said?” He asked, and Lance nodded slowly, eyes transfixed on his lips._

_“You’re very forward.” Keith noted, and Lance grinned wider, eyes snapping up to look Keith in the eye._

_“Oh, you have no idea.”_

 

“How long have you been playing?” Keith asks him quietly, and Lance shrugs, thinking for a moment before telling him that this would be his twelfth year playing the sax.

“Are you a performance major or an ed major?” He asks, and Lance laughs, giving him a slow once over.

“Performance, obviously. I live to perform.”

 

_Two shots later, Lance had managed to pull Keith closer, leaning in._

_“Am I reading this wrong, or are you just as into me as I am into you?” Lance asked as Keith pushed the shot glass away._

_“Lance-”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re straight. You wouldn’t have humored me this long if you didn’t like dicks.” And Keith snorted again, rolling his eyes._

_“You can’t just say stuff like that.” but Lance shook his head, leaning to whisper in Keith’s ear._

_“I always say stuff like that. Admit it, mullet. You think I’m sexy. I’m the most charming man at this bar tonight, and I wanna take you home.” He said, and Keith flushed the most lovely shade of pink._

 

He continued answering Keith, telling him about rep that he had played, about his goals for the year, and about which ensembles he would be auditioning for.

“What would you like to get out of your lessons this semester, Lance?” And he flushes a deep crimson. He knows that Keith wasn’t asking him anything embarrassing, but he still hesitates.

“Uh...I don’t know. I want to learn some Jazz, I guess.” but Keith shakes his head.

“No, like...why are you here, taking lessons?” Keith says, eyes locked with Lance’s.

“Well, they’re required.”

Keith snorts, his nose doing that cute thing where it gets all scrunched up, and Lance gulps, his cheeks darkening.

“You know that isn’t what I mean.” keith pushes gently, tilting his head a little to the left. He looks different like this, Lance notes. He’s wearing dark wash jeans and a red button down, which was significantly different than the black t-shirt and fingerless gloves,

“I mean...I want to play the sax professionally...so I want to like...have better musicianship and technique and stuff. I just like...wanna be the best player that I can be.” His answer is quieter. He didn’t know how he felt about being honest and open with Keith.

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere. It’s your first semester, so we’ll have to work on technique primarily. We have to make sure you have all of the necessary tools for surviving in the professional world of music.” And Lance smiles softly, looking at Keith and nodding.

“Play all of your major scales.” Keith requests.

 

_Keith moaned lowly, his head tipping back against the brick, pushing gently against Lance, whose mouth was currently attached to the spot where his neck met his left shoulder. Keith ruts against him in search of some kind of friction._

_“Not here. Not here. It’s too public. I live like a block away.” He said, the words tumbling out of his mouth, and Lance nodded against his warm skin, kissing chastely once before pulling away and letting Keith lead the way to his small, studio apartment._

_The second they were inside, lance had ripped his own shirt off, tossing it aside, and Keith whined, biting his bottom lip. Lance had never been this turned on in his entire life._

_He practically pounced on the darker haired boy, pushing him into the wall and kissing him desperately. Vodka and whiskey._

_“Mullet, I just want to say-”_

_“Keith, Lance. My name is Keith.” He said, peppering kisses down his neck, and Lance smiled, remembering that he had never gotten a name._

_“Right, Keith. I have to say, you are just so pretty, and I-”_

_“Lance, shut the fuck up.” He pleaded, pushing back against Lance, guiding him to the bed._

 

Lance plays through his scales, looking up at Keith once he finished. Keith remains quiet for a while, writing some things down in a notebook, tendrils of his black hair falling in his eyes. And Lance can almost hear the noises again, the sounds that Keith made when he had tugged on his hair.

“That wasn’t bad.” Keith praises ashe finished his writing and tucked the hair behind his ear. Lance frowned at that. Not bad?

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks, sounding hurt, and Keith laughs, smiling at him kindly and shaking his head.

“Nothing bad Lance, calm down. You did better than the other freshman that I teach.” He assured, and Lance nodded slowly, trying to calm back down. He didn’t want Keith to think that he wasn’t talented.

 

_"Oh, fuck, lance. Ah-” Keith said, keening as Lance wasted no time taking Keith’s cock in his mouth, sucking gently. And it takes almost all of Keith’s self control to keep his hips from thrusting up for more._

_Lance looks absolutely sinful (and stunning) with his lips wrapped around Keith’s cock, and Keith couldn’t remember the last time that he had been so attracted to someone._

_Lance hums gently, taking more of keith into his mouth before setting a slow rhythm, one of his hands moving to massage the base of his cock. And Keith whined again, head falling back._

 

At the end of their hour long lesson, Lance puts his saxophone away in its case, carefully setting all of the pieces in their assigned spot, and Keith asks him if they were doing the same time next week. Lance shudders, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, that works for me.” He mumbles, closing the case. And what Keith did next surprised him more than anything else ever had in Lance’s entire, stupid life.

“Hey, I thought you were always loud.” He says, smirking, and Lance turned tomato red yet again, biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet as he remembered telling Keith that at the bar, telling him that he could talk enough for the both of them. Okay...so it’s okay to acknowledge their...trist.

“Sorry, Keith.” He says, voice tight, sighing and standing up.

“But hey, take it as a compliment. I’ve never been speechless a day in my life…” He adds awkwardly, looking down at his feet, “I’m just embarrassed.”

And keith does his stupid little snort again, shaking his head. And Lance looked at him, eyes wide.

“ _You’re embarrassed?”_ He requested, running a hand through his long hair, “Tell me about it.” He said, but a second later his head snapped up. “Not literally.”

Lance chuckles, nodding. He hadn't been planning on recounting all of the reasons that this was embarrassing. Keith stood up, opening the door to let Lance out, saying a polite goodbye before shutting the door and groaning, falling against it.

What the fuck had they done.


	2. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you tasted.

Shiro sips at his beer, studying Keith as he sits down across the table, looking thoroughly freaked out. Shiro had received a few frantic texts and had promised to meet him for some day drinking.

“What’s the emergency, babe. I have class in like an hour.” he says, making sure that his voice is kind. He had always been there for keith, even though the emergencies were hardly ever actual emergencies. 

“I fucked my student.” He says bluntly, staring at Shiro his eyebrows furrowed, and Shiro chokes on his beer, face turning red as he coughs into the crook of his elbow, eyes squeezed tight. 

“Actually...technically, I let my student fuck me.” Keith corrects himself, frowning a bit and staring off behind Shiro as he thought about the technicality. Shiro shakes his head, mouth hanging open with nothing to actually say to that. 

“Now? What are you talking about? How do you just let your-”

“Well, it was technically before he was my student? Remember that one night stand?... The one you were teasing me about?” He asks, and Shiro smiles then, clearly thinking that Keith’s disaster of an existence is  _ amusing _ . 

“This isn’t funny, you dick!” He snaps, crossing his arms annoyedly, “I had a one night stand, which I never do, and  _ now _ he’s my fucking student. He’s been  _ inside of me. _ How is any of this funny?” Keith rants, staring at the table as if he were scrutinizing everything about it.

Shiro just shrugs, taking another sip, “I mean, it’s obviously a big deal. But come on, Keith… you have to admit that it’s kind of funny that the one time you do something reckless and fun, it bites you in the-”

“Oh god, I think he did bite my ass.” Keith mutters miserable, falling forward to hide his face on the table. His knuckles white as he clutches the side of the table. 

And Shiro actually laughs that time, thinking about how he would feel if any of the students in the class he TAs for had fucked him. He shuddered. 

“Shiro, what do I do?” Keith asks, sounding miserable, face smashed against the table. Shiro just slides his beer over, watching as Keith lifts up to chug the rest of it, staring at the empty bottle afterwards. 

 

_ “Fuck, Lance I-I’m gonna-” but he pulls off just in time, placing a gently kiss to Keith’s tip before smiling up at him, clamoring up to kiss him sloppily, shoving his tongue inside of Keith’s mouth. Keith groaned.  _

_ “You taste good,” Lance whispered, nipping at his jawline gently, “mmm sexy Keith.” He mused, and Keith chuckled, rolling his eyes at the boy.  _

_ “What’s the plan?” Lance asked then, and Keith frowned, confused. _

_ “The plan?”  _

_ “Yeah, Keith? Like are we going all the way or exchanging blowjobs or what?” He said, still kissing lazily at Keith’s exposed neck, and Keith’s heart sped up in anticipation.  _

_ “I want you to fuck me. I’m clean, are you clean?” and lance nodded, remembering his older sister taking him to get tested after she had found out about him being sexually active. Lance was most definitely STI free.  _

_ “All right, then there’s your plan.” He said, rolling to the bedside table and rummaging around for a minute for some condoms and lube. _

_ “Alright, mullet. Legs up.” He teased, dipping to bite at Keith’s thigh, grinning when Keith moaned obscenely, head thrown back.  _

 

“Do you think that you’ll still be able to teach him?” Shiro questions, raising his eyebrows. Keith ponders for a minute, thinking about Lance’s goals. 

“Well yeah, I’m a decent lesson teacher, and when the ed majors go student teach next semester, He’ll have Professor Thace.” Keith informs, eyebrows knit together. 

“Doe he make you uncomfortable at all?” Shiro questions next, and again, Keith shakes his head. 

“No, he’s harmless. He’s a sweet guy. I’m not uncomfortable, just embarrassed.” And Shiro nods, flagging down a waitress and requesting two more beers, thanking her before turning back to poor Keith (who looked absolutely pitiful with his wide eyes and furrowed brows.

“Did he seem uncomfortable?” And Keith thinks back on his mannerisms, how they kept awkwardly staring at each other and how he kept flushing pink. 

“I don’t think so. I think he’s also just embarrassed. Y’know, he bought me shots at a bar that he legally is not old enough to be in, and then I let him fuck me...and now I’m grading him on his saxophone lessons, and I’ll probably be his section leader in one of the groups. He’s probably just as mortified as me.” Keith says, shrugging, and Shiro nodded. 

“Well...It isn’t ideal, but it’s one semester. You said it yourself, he’s a good guy. If neither of you are uncomfortable, I think that it’ll be fine. Just don’t fuck him again.” Shiro says, giving Keith a pointed look before taking his new  beer thankfully and sliding the second to Keith. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping at their drinks. 

“Yeah...not planning on it.” He mutters, shaking his head and groaning, “I can’t believe he’s seen me naked.” He whispers that time, swallowing thickly. 

“Well, you’re not too bad looking. So at least you know that he’s probably flustered instead of like…”

“No, stop. We don't need to talk about my dick… or my ass or any other part of my body. This is why I don’t have sex.” He says, a hand tangling in his thick black hair. 

“You don’t have sex out of fear that you’ll end up fucking a guy that’s in your saxophone studio?” Shiro asks, raising his eyebrows and laughing, and Keith turns bright red yet again. 

“No, you piece of shit. It makes everything complicated.  _ Sex should be easy and fun, Keith. Stop worrying so much. Stop complaining to me,”  _ He mimics Shiro’s voice, glaring at the other graduate student, “You’re the worst. This is all your fault.”

“In my defence, you are really annoying when you get all whiny and sex starved. And you did have fun. You were glowing for like a week.” He points out, laughing. And that shuts Keith up because yeah, even though it ruined everything, sex with Lance had been both easy and fun.

 

_ Lance lubed up his fingers, looking up at Keith and smiling, petting at Keith’s thigh with his clean hand.  _

_ “Is it okay if I-” _

_ “God, Lance, don’t get shy  _ now _.” He pleaded, and although he had meant to sound sexy and in charge, it came out as a broken beg. He pulled his thighs closer to his chest, needing some kind of contact before he went actually crazy.  _

_ Lance nodded, humming softly as he gently touched Keith’s hole, watching his muscles clench and unclench before pushing his pointer finger in to the first knuckle.  _

_ Holy shit, Keith was tight. _

_ He looked up to survey the older man’s expression, and he was shocked by how beautiful and  _ needy _ he looked, eyes glassy and hooded, mouth gaping open like he had something to say.  _

_ Lance pushed his finger the rest of the way in, pumping it in and out slowly, avoiding his prostate for now.  _

_ He wanted this to last as long as possible. _

 

After their beers, Shiro pays up front before giving Keith a strong hug and kissing the top of his head. Keith still didn’t know what he had done to deserve such an amazing older brother. He walks out with Shiro, watching him walk slowly towards the STEM building before he turns on his heels, walking the opposite direction towards fine arts. 

He goes to his office, pulling out his sax and warming up slowly before practicing for his auditions that were coming up at the weekend. 

 

Five days later, Lance is staring at the list, face lighting up as he reads his name over and over and over again. 

Wind Symphony, third chair. He had actually made the Wind Symphony. It was almost unheard of, a freshman saxophonist making the top wind band. 

He couldn’t wait to call his mom and tell her. 

He feels giddy, like he should run outside and scream at the random cars, telling them that he was actually talented. That there were fourteen saxophonists in the program, and he was third chair alto sax. 

“Congratulations.” He hears from behind him, and he jumps, spinning around rapidly to stare at Keith, eyes wide, “That’s quite the accomplishment. Told you that you were talented.” He says, and Lance gulps, smiling at him. 

“Thanks, Keith.” He says softly, glancing back at the list and noticing that Keith, of course, was first chair. He was the Graduate student after all. 

 

_ By the time Lance had three fingers inside of Keith, the older boy was a writhing mess, grinding his hips down on Lance’s finger, making these gorgeous little gasping noises, and then Lance can’t wait, and he crooks his fingers, altering the angle until Keith all but screamed, His eyes blown wide as he stared down at Lance.  _

__ _ “Please.” He said, whimpering, and Lance nodded, gently pulling his fingers ount and wiping them on Keith’s bedspread before leaning down and biting Keith’s right ass cheek, causing the older boy to yelp, staring at him with shocked violet eyes.  _

__ _ “Sorry, babe.” Lance said, leaning up to kiss him quickly, “What position do you like? Do you have a preference?” He asked, and Keith whined, shaking his head pathetically.  _

__ _ “Lance, I don’t care how, I just need you inside of me,  _ now.”  _ He said, and Lance smiled, nodding and reaching for the condoms and the lube again, putting on a condom before applying a very generous amount of lube to his cock as well as a little bit to Keith’s asshole for good measure.  _

__ _ He settles between Keith’s legs, letting keith rest one on his shoulder and holding his other against his chest still, before slowly guiding himself in.  _

 

“I uh… look forward to playing with you. I haven’t heard you yet.” Lance says, moving out of the way of the other students that were trying desperately to get their eyes on the list. Keith follows him with pink tinged cheeks.

“Oh, yeah. You haven’t.” He says, running a hand through his dark hair, “Also, I forgot to give you an assignment. Did you buy the required books?” He asks, and Lance nodded before frowning. 

“Wait, I actually don’t think I got all of them.” He admits, looking down at his shoes, “But like...I’ll order it tonight, of course. I just never got around to it. It was the expensive one, and there were so many other stupid books and they all cost-”

“I’ll photocopy the etudes I want you to have for next week, and I’ll email them to you. Don’t worry about it. I’m a student too...I get the whole textbook thing.” He says, and Lance is genuinely surprised that he didn’t get chastised for not having bought the book. 

“Thanks, Keith. That’s… yeah. I promise I’ll buy it for next time.” He adds, still feeling guilty about not being prepared for his first saxophone assignment of the year. 

“It’s not a problem. Just don’t mind all of my notes...I write a lot in my music.” He says, chuckling with a shrug, and Lance nods, assuring him that it doesn’t matter. But he wonders what he can learn about Keith Kogane from the scribbles that he leaves in the margins of his music. 

“And don’t be late to rehearsal tomorrow.” He adds, walking away towards his office. Lance stares after him for a minute, eyes locked on his hips.

 

_ Keith’s moans are absolutely delicious, and Lance is surprised at the amount of noise that the normally quiet man is making. Lance moans softly when he’s all the way inside of keith, basking in the feeling of how hot and tight Keith was.  _

__ _ “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He said, and a deep red color spreads across Keith’s face, and it spreads down his neck.  _

__ _ “Please please please.” He all but whispers, trying to grind down on Lance’s cock, wanting to feel Lance moving inside of him. Lance smiles, pulling almost all the way out before slamming in once, causing a startled cry from Keith, after which he gnaws on those gorgeous pink lips.  _

__ _ “Lance.” He breathes out, and every single one of Lance’s nerve endings was on fire from the sound of Keith whimpering his name.  _

__ _ “I got you baby, gonna fuck you real good. I promise.” He says, turning his head to bite the skin of Keith’s calf before setting a moderate pace, fucking Keith earnestly. He had never heard anything like Keith’s noises.  _

 

__ Lance sighs, making his way back to his dorm, suddenly feeling like he needs to take a cold shower to settle down. Stupid mullet. Stupid face and hair and moans. It really isn’t Lance’s fault that Keith is absolutely stunning. He pulls his blue jacket tighter around himself as he makes the short trek to his room. 

It isn’t cold outside, the mid afternoon sun beating down on Lance’s cheeks, but he still feels safe wrapped up in the jacket, and really, small comforts make the biggest difference. He thinks about calling his mom, telling her how homesick he is, but he decides against it. 

Of course, Keith Kogane, talented saxophone player, graduate student, wearer of fingerless gloves, was the best sex that he’s ever had. Of course he had to be Lance’s teacher. Lance feels a shallow kind of emptiness in his abdomen. 

When he finally reaches his dorm, he slams the door shut before sliding down, pulling his knees to his chest and sighing annoyedly. It wasn’t keith’s fault, he reasoned. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he fishes it out, clicking the home button and groaning at the sight of Keith’s email. Stupid Keith. 

He opens the email and looks over the etudes. They look harder than he expected them to be, and he squints, mentally running through the fingerings. There were a lot of sixteenth notes in the first one, and he sighed, not wanting to walk back and practice.

Instead, he pulls his laptop up into his bed, and he puts netflix on, curling around the screen and wallowing in self pity. 

 

_ Keith orgasmed from just Lance’s cock, his stomach now covered in come, but he kept grinding down on Lance, even after his orgasm was over, and Lance opened his mouth to ask if he wanted Lance to stop, but he shook his head, telling Lance to “Shut up and fuck” him.  _

__ _ It didn’t take Lance much longer to reach his own climax, the image of keith splayed out with his mouth wide open and cum all over his stomach was essentially the hottest thing he had ever seen.  _

__ _ He moaned Keith’s name, his head tipping back. He pulled out a moment later, discarding the condom before dipping to lick Keith’s stomach clean, swallowing every drop of the pale boy’s cum.  _

__ _ Keith blushed, pulling Lance up to kiss him slowly and with an open mouth.  _

__ _ “Mmm, you still taste good.” He whispers, and Keith laughs, looking up at Keith with hooded eyes.  _

__ _ “What’s your refractory period like?” He asks before sucking a hickey on to Lance’s neck.  _

__ _ “My what?”  _

__ _ “How soon can I give you a blowjob… or ride you… or both?” He asked and Lance looked at him, surprised that he wanted more.  _

__ _ “You look so tired.” Lance argued, and Keith snorted, giggling with his scrunched up nose.  _

__ _ “Nah, Lance. Not done with you yet. I’ll sleep when I’m done.” He said, kissing him again, hands slipping down to Lance’s ass, drawing out a moan from the younger boy.  _

_            “Fuck, that's hot.” Lance says, grinning up at him.  _


	3. Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got that something, I got me an appetite.

The hours leading up to his first official rehearsal at Garrison University were Hell for Lance. He stood in his dorm room, pacing back and forth pathetically for nearly half an hour before his roommate did anything. 

“Dude, stop. You’re giving  _ me  _ anxiety. What has you so worked up?” Hunk questions, looking up from his weird math homework (it looked like an alien language to poor Lance). 

“I have rehearsal soon.” He mutters, still pacing, 10 steps one way then ten the other. Back and forth. Hunk was surprised there weren’t tracks on the carpet. 

“Buddy, you’re a musician… aren’t rehearsals your thing?” He asked, looking over at lance with an expression of genuine confusion. 

Lance stopped in his tracks, quiet for a moment before speaking, “You would think right? But like… I haven’t ever played in a college group. And my lesson teacher is my section leader. What if I fuck up? What if I’m so bad that they kick me out. What if the entire band hates my guts because I like...play in the wrong key?” He stops his rant to take a huge breath, “And not only that, but did I mention that my crazy hot sax teacher is my section leader? If I fuck up, what if he kills me. What if they kick me out of the program because Keith convinces the saxophone professor that I’m absolute shit. Oh god.” 

The more Lance spoke, the more anxious he became, fixating on new fears.

“Lance, if you weren’t good they wouldn’t have let you in. It’ll be fine. And I thought you said that your GA was cool?” Hunk’s words are rational as ever, his voice warm and soothing. He stands up, walking over to Lance and pulling him in for a bear hug. 

“I just don’t wanna fuck up.” Lance’s words get lost in the fabric of Hunk’s jacket. The larger boy laughs.

“You won’t. And even if you did...everyone fucks up sometimes.” He shrugs, ruffling Lance’s hair, “Now...how about we go get a snack and then you can go early and set your instrument up.” He offered, and Lance nodded. 

“Okay...that sounds good, I guess.”

 

_ “Was that okay?” Keith asked after having drawn three more orgasms out of Lance. The younger boy’s body was malleable, soft and satiated, he yawned.  _

_ “Yeah. ‘s good.” He mumbled, smiling up languidly and reaching out to push away the strands of dark hair cemented to Keith’s forehead.  _

_ “It’s late,” Keith spoke softly, and Lance looked around for a clock, head moving slowly, fluidly as if he were high.  _

_ “How late?” he asked when he didn’t find one, and Keith chuckled, leaning over Lance to check his cell phone. _

_ “It’s three. You can stay if you want.” He said, sounding casual, standing up and sauntering over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of underwear, “Want anything to sleep in? Your clothes are gross.”  _

_ Lance frowned but nodded, requesting a pair of underwear, and the dark-haired boy pulls out a second pair of briefs before going to grab a wet washcloth, cleaning up his own stomach.  _

_ “Here.” He says, handing Lance the black underwear before climbing over him and laying down, “Turn off the lamp.” He added as an afterthought, curled up on the left side of the bed.  _

_ “Okay. goodnight, Keith.” Lance said softly, turning the lights off and allowing sleep to consume him.  _

 

Lance was almost too early, holding his case and staring at the band room for a few minutes before peeking his head in. The director was shuffling around, making sure that all of the chairs were in the correct place. 

Lance crept in nervously, taking in the large rehearsal space. He set his case down, pulling out his sax and beginning to set it up, putting a reed between his lips to wet it. 

After a couple more minutes, his classmates began filtering in, chatting casually with each other, and Lance felt like he was floating in the vast infinity of space, trying to reach out but completely alone. 

His shoulders tensed when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

“Yeah, the rep is really cool this semester, Coran was showing me the other day. There are some really cool parts.” He informed, and Lance glanced backward.

Keith was holding his saxophone, black nickel and engraved. It was absolutely gorgeous, darker than Lance’s own sax, and it was obviously professional grade. Keith himself was wearing a black v-neck t-shirt and black skinny jeans, completely different than his outfit days earlier. 

The man he was talking to was tall, lanky, blonde, and holding his own silver saxophone. He must be the second chair sax. 

Lance scrambled up, walking behind them to his seat. 

“Well, I don’t really care what we play. You should hear what we’re paying in my chamber group, dude. It’s actually badass.” Keith rolled his eyes, sitting down. 

“Look, the newbie is here.” The blonde boy said, stretching on the chair before opening the black folder on his stand. 

“Yeah, this is Lance McClain. He’s one of mine.” Lance’s cheeks redden at the statement, and he forces a tight smile. 

“Well  hello, Mr. Lance McClain.” And Rolo gives him a once-over, eyes settling on his sax, “Yamaha?” He asked, and Lance nodded, glancing down at his sax. The boy leaned over then, whispering something to Keith (who then rolled his eyes and shook his head). 

“I didn’t catch your name,” Lance tried to sound cool, but it sounded tight. He frowned a little. Since when was he so awkward. 

“That’s because I didn’t  _ throw it _ ,” He said, smirking over at the younger boy. “I’m Ryland Witherington… you can call me Rolo.” 

And Lance nodded, cheeks still pink. This dude seemed way cooler than him, wearing a green flannel and beanie.

“Hey, go easy on him, man. He’s new.” Keith pointed out, opening his folder and going through the music. 

“Wanna take first on this one, I’m gonna play soprano,” And Rolo nodded, taking the first part before fishing out his own part and handing it to lance. 

“What about you, Lance. Is there a piece you want first on? Everything’s fair game except the Maslanka,” Keith offered, looking over at him. Lance’s could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and he shrugged. 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“Here, take amazing grace. You can handle a solo, right?” And Lance had never been more confused. 

“Aren’t you first chair, isn’t it your job to like-”

“Distribute parts. Coran leaves that up to section leaders. I could never play first part if I wanted. It’s my call.” He explained, handing over Amazing Grace before stealing Rolo’s second part. 

“But it has a-”

“Lance, Jesus, calm down. It’s amazing grace… you can play amazing grace, right?” And Lance flushed red, looking away from Keith’s stare. 

“Yeah, I can play amazing grace,” he muttered, and Keith chuckled. 

“Then you’ll be fine. And if not, I’ll help you.”

 

_ Lance woke early, Keith’s face still smashed into the gray pillow, and for the first time, Lance surveyed the room. The bed was pushed in the corner, across from it was his dresser. There was a TV sitting on top, but other than that, the room was plain.  _

_ He got up carefully, trying to leave the bed as quietly as possible to find his phone. 6:30 in the morning, he huffed, pulling on his jeans and t-shirt, face contorting at the scent.  _

_ He looked around, pocketing his phone and searching for a piece of paper. He found a pad of sticky notes in the kitchen, and he scribbled a quick note.  _

_ Hey, hope you slept well. Last night was really fine. We should do it again sometime. _

_ And then he scribbled his number, sneaking to put the sticky note on the older boy’s phone before he made is way out of the apartment and to his car, plopping down and staring at the steering wheel for a few minutes.  _

_ “Holy shit.” He muttered, unable to get the image of a sexed out Keith out of his head. He had never seen anything quite as pretty.  _

 

“You’re alright, McClain,” Rolo said, as he started to pack up his stuff, and Lance just shrugged. 

“You’re good too. It’s cool to play with you guys. My high school group was nothing like this.” Lance was in awe of the other two. They had played the music so effortlessly, making few mistakes. 

“That’s pretty normal. My high school sucked. Thace is good though. As soon as this jackass isn’t teaching you anymore, you’ll improve like-”

“Fuck you. I’m a fine teacher.” Keith snapped, rolling his eyes at the blonde boy, “And Lance is in perfectly fine hands.” But the minute the words had escaped his mouth, he was bright red, and Lance’s eyes were trapped on him.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I know you’re good and all, but like… Thace has been playing for a century or something,” Rolo doesn’t notice the tension between the other two boys, and Lance stands up abruptly.

“I’ll see you both on Thursday,” He says, picking up his case.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for your lesson. Don’t be late,” Keith corrected, and Lance frowns, thinking about his eleven o’clock lesson with the beautiful man. 

“Yeah. See you then.”  He all but runs from the room, fumbling with his locker before running back to his dorm room, thanking god when He returns to an empty space where he can be flustered all by his lonesome. 

 

_ Keith woke to a cold bed, frowning and feeling around for another body before opening his eyes and sighing, spotting the neon orange sticky note on his bedside table. He read the words a few times before shoving it into the drawer.  _

_ “Fine, no good morning blowjob for you,” He muttered to himself before getting up to shower, opening the window first to air out the room that still smelled like the tang of sweaty bodies and cum.  _

 

“Look, dude. All I’m saying is that it’s bullshit that woodwind ensemble counts as an ensemble.” Pidge says, taking a bite of her pizza and shrugging.

“Oh, and percussion ensemble should count?” Hunk fires back, and they nod.

“Yeah, weirdo. We have to play like an average of 7 instruments each in any given concert. If it didn’t count, that’d be tyranny,” they informed, still chewing the pizza, a glob of yellow and red in their mouth. 

“Pidge, that’s disgusting.” Lance says, laughing, “And shut up both of you. Those both count as ensembles, I think. 

“You play in Jazz 2 and Wind, right?” 

“Pidge, for god’s sake, swallow your pizza,” Lance pleads, shivering for dramatic effect. Both Pidge and Hunk burst out laughing, “Yeah, I’m in Jazz 2 and Wind. Why does it matter?”

“It matters because those are  _ real  _ ensembles. Unlike Hunk’s bullshit woodwind-”

“Let off, Pidge,” but Hunk was laughing as he spoke. 

It had been easy for Lance to befriend the two. The three had most of their classes together, and they were both easy to talk to. 

Hunk was warm and welcoming (and a very understanding roommate) with his large form and kind voice. Lance had never had a friend as  _ nice  _ as him before, and it was incredibly refreshing.

And Pidge was sarcastic, quick, witty, and unbelievably smart. They played percussion, and never sat still. Lance and Pidge could banter for hours, their wits equally matched. And Lance enjoyed the challenge.  

“So, you guys excited for Nyma Evans’ party on Friday?” Pidge asks casually, and Lance frowns.

“What party now?” Hunk asks, and Lance doesn’t say anything, eyes shifting between the two. Pidge gasps, clutching at their chest dramatically. 

“See, maybe if you spent time with some important people instead of your  _ woodwind ensemble _ , you would have received an invitation. Apparently, all the coolest music kids are there. Last year was epic… I want to be in one of the stories. I heard that a girl jumped from the second-floor balcony into the pool.” Pidge sounds wistful, their eyes staring blankly at nothing. 

“Who the hell jumps from a balcony into a pool? That’s how you  _ die _ .” Hunk asks, and Pidge throws their head back, cackling loudly. 

“She was drunk and someone dared her. But apparently, she took all her clothes off first. She said she wanted to have dry clothes. Anyway, I’m taking you both. This is how we get cool with the upperclassmen.” And Lance smiles, nodding. 

“Hey, I’m down. I never say no to a party. What another kind of shit goes down at these things? Think I can beat a senior at beer pong?” Lance asks, and Pidge grins deviously, nodding. 

“Oh hell yeah. Apparently, there’s something for everyone. They play games, dance, drink, apparently, there’ll be weed, if that’s your scene.” 

Lance just grins, thinking about all of the crazy things he’ll do. 

“Well, it looks like we’re going to the coolest party of the year.”

 

“You’re late,” Keith says, looking over his shoulder as Lance pushes through the door, hands full. 

“No, I’m not. I’m right on time!”

“It’s 11:01. You’re late.” Keith repeated, raising his eyebrows, and Lance scoffs, plopping down and trying to organize his stuff. 

“It’s just a minute, Keith. It’s not that big of a deal.” He says, and Keith puts one hand on his hip, black button up done just a little too low. 

“Not that big of a deal? If you aren’t going to respect my time, lance. I’ll drop you a letter grade,” He snaps, and lance frowns deeply, staring up at the annoyed boy above him, “Play your first etude. It better be good, or I’m making you leave. I’m not in the mood for any bullshit today.” 

Lance node, staying silent. He pulls out his first etude, breathing nervously before playing. He only made a few mistakes, pulling his sax from his face once he’s done.

Keith doesn’t speak for what seems like an eternity, silence swirling around the room between them. 

“You need to work on a lot. This is hardly polished, Lance.” He accuses, and lance huffs, shrugging. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, Keith. I’m not perfect, okay?”

“Obviously!” He snaps, flinching at his own tone of voice, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just been a really long day.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair, “Just...slow it down a little and try again.” 

His voice is quiet, and Lance nods, lifting his instrument to start over, heat radiating from his body. He doesn’t want to disappoint Keith.


	4. Dare or Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re persuasive

Lance swallowed thickly, the baby blue baseball tee clinging to his abdomen. His hands kept fiddling with the hem uselessly 

“Dude, c’mon. You look great. Pidge has been waiting for like five minutes. We need to  _ go _ ,” Hunk says kindly, standing behind him, smiling. Lance nods, opening the door and walking out into the hallway. 

“I know. I know. I know. There’ll just be tons of like juniors and seniors… and I just want them to like me, y’know. I want them to think I’m cool!” And Hunk laughs, throwing his head back. 

“Dude, you  _ are  _ cool.” And Hunk pushes forward, finding Pidge waiting in front of the elevators. Their eyes scanned over Lance, and they smiled. 

“Baby blue,” they mused, pushing the elevator button before turning to chat aimlessly with Hunk about something. Lance couldn’t quite force himself to focus, his mind far away, thinking about the way that Rolo looked at him during their second rehearsal. Like he was some cute little animal. It made Lance uncomfortable. He didn’t  _ feel  _ cool. 

He stepped into the elevator, chiming in his best friends’ conversation. 

“Well, I certainly will  _ not  _ be the designated driver. I’m going for cool, remember?” ANd Pidge rolls their eyes annoyedly. 

“Drinking doesn’t make you cool, you regressive man-baby,” Pidge says, and Lance’s eyes widen. 

“What did you just call me?” His voice was incredulous, pitched upwards into a higher octave. 

“Oh, I think you heard me.” They said, exiting the elevator and pulling their car keys out as they trekked to the silver buik that Pidge drove. 

“All I’m saying is that I am not a man-baby. I don’t even know what that means!”

“It means that you’re a grown man that acts like a baby,” Pidge speaks as if this should be obvious, and Lance scoffs. 

“I do not act like a baby. You act like a bitch!” He fired back, and Pidge shrugged. 

“Sure, I’ll take it. I’ve been called worse,” They teased, starting the car and inputting the address into Their Samsung. 

The banter continued as they got farther from campus, the small apartments changing into larger, more elaborate houses. And eventually, they parked in front of a beautiful, modern masterpiece. And they could already hear the laughter coming from inside. Lance sucked in a breath, grinning

Lance knew parties. He was good at parties. He was good at showing up, making an impression, hitting on some sexy people, and leaving a room starstruck. Especially when there was some alcohol in his system. 

“Let’s do this!” Pidge exclaimed happily, making their way towards the house. Lance and Hunk fell in line behind them. 

The house was even cooler on the inside, wide and open and gorgeous. The living room was littered with people, most of whom were chatting and sipping at drinks. Lance immediately finds his way to the kitchen, eyes filtering after the extensive selection of alcohol and snacks. 

“Heeey! It’s ma boy Lance!” And he spins around to see Rolo, a beanie slung over his sandy blonde hair, “Can I get you anything. Mi casa es...su casa!” And Lance snorts, shaking his head. 

“Dude, it’s mi casa es  _ tu  _ casa,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Whatever, man! You get what I’m saying. And the question still stands, what can I get for you?” And Lance shrugs, turning again to look over the options. 

“I’m making a margarita for Nyma if you want one?” He says then, and Lance nods, smiling a bit. 

“Yeah, that sounds great… I thought this was her party?” Lance says, trying to keep his voice calm and casual. 

“Yeah… I mean. It’s our party, dude. It’s our house,” Rolo explains, getting started on the drinks. Lance nods pensively. 

“It’s a really nice house. How’d you score it?” And Rolo looks over at him, shrugging.

“Rich parents,” is the only response that Lance receives, but this is enough, and he reaches over to grab a handful of pretzels. 

“Yeah, so as you can see, drinks and snacks are up here. There are some more snacks in the basement. The pool and hot tub are outside if you’d like. Most people just strip to their underwear. And there’s weed down in the basement too, if that’s your thing,” He says, turning to hand lance a cup. 

Lance thanks him, taking a sip. He didn’t really know anyone, and he didn’t exactly know where he should go. 

“C’mon. You seem like the kind of boy who likes attention. Everyone’s playing games downstairs. And I’d like to kick your ass at flip cup,” Rolo says then, leading the way towards a set of stairs. 

It was then that Lance really noticed how hot he was, tall and lithe, wearing a grey tank top with a pair of swim trunks. 

Lance followed him silently down the stairs, listening to the loud chatter. It was well lit and filled with people, some playing beer pong, some playing pool, some making out on the couch. Lance grinned, following Rolo to a fold-out table. 

“Put your drink down, pretty boy,” Rolo said, “I’m gonna kick your ass!” He tossed Lance a beer (which he barely caught).

“Don’t we need teams?” Lance asked feebly, and Rolo pondered. 

“I mean… usually. What? Can’t drink all four cups on your own?” He asked, and Lance laughed, shaking his head. 

“Of course I can… it’s wheat juice with like four percent alcohol,” He points out, and he begins pouring the beer into his cups, making sure that they’re even with Rolo’s. 

“Keith, babe!” Rolo called, and Lance froze, the blood draining from his face as he turned to follow Rolo’s gaze. Keith saunters over, wearing those  _ stupid  _ fingerless gloves. 

“Yeah,  _ sweetie _ ,” Keith retorted sarcastically, raising his eyebrows. 

“You need to be here to keep young Lance honest. Don’t want him cheating me out of my win!” Rolo winked at Keith then, and Lance’s cheeks flared a warm pink. 

“Please. I’m gonna beat you, and Keith here doesn’t need to keep me straight. I don’t cheat. I just win!” Lance says, taking a swig of his margarita. 

Keith just rolls his eyes, and he calls over his table, “One on One flip cup if anyone wants to watch.” 

At least ten people walk over, standing near Keith and chattering excitedly. Lance didn’t really understand what the big deal was. 

“Alright! Tonight, here at the infamous house of Ryland Witherington the third, we have the face off of the year. Seasoned professional and undefeated flip cup champion, Rolo,” everyone cheers, and Lance’s eyes widen, “Playing the brand new rookie. May the best man win,” Keith says, voice amused. 

“You both know the rules, right?” And Lance nods, “Well, on the count of three… fuckin’ go for it,” he says. 

Lance swallows thickly, staring at Rolo. How the hell had he been roped into playing flip cup with an allegedly undefeated champion. 

“One.” Rolo winked obscenely before dropping his eyes to the first cup. 

“Two.” Lance looks at Rolo and then at the crowd of people that had gathered around him. 

“Lance,” Keith warns, and the younger boy’s head snaps to his cup right before Keith says three. And he’s chugging, gulping down the beer before setting it on the edge of the table, trying to flip it upside down. Rolo is already on his second cup. 

It takes lance four tries to get his cup before he’s chugging the next one, tossing it back before flipping more gently that time, getting it on the first try, catching himself up with the blond boy. 

Yells are swirling around him as everyone cheers them on. Lance flips his third cup, but before he’s even done swallowing the beer from the fourth cup, Everyone is screaming for Rolo. 

Lance sets down the empty clear cup, frowning deeply. 

“So much for cool,” He whispered under his breath, but Rolo is sauntering over after that, pulling him in for a bone crushing hug. 

“Good job, man. I thought you were gonna catch me for a second there!” And he sounds honest, “I’m sure that if you practiced, you could beat me.” He added, and Lance just shrugged, reaching for his drink. 

“But hey, we’re heading upstairs to the living room for a game of Dare or Drink, if you’re in. They get pretty rowdy and hilarious. But you can’t just watch. It’s in or out,” He adds, arm draped over Lance’s shoulders. 

“Yeah… I’m in. What’s dare or drink?” He asks, and Rolo Laughs. 

“It’s like truth or dare. Someone asks you a question or dares you to do something, and you either do it or take a shot,” He hears from his other side, and he looks over to see Keith, walking beside him. 

“But! Every tap out requires an extra shot. So after you take a shot, the next time, you have to take two. Just to keep everything interesting, y’know!” Rolo adds, and Lance is ushered upstairs, sandwiched between the two. 

Once upstairs, Rolo clears the room of non-players before going to grab some shot glasses and bottles. He sets them down on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, pulling Keith down beside him. 

Lance sits on a chair a few feet away, and he notices Keith’s eyes trained on him, the dark irises reflecting something that lance can’t quite place. 

“Me first!” A blonde girl calls out, and Rolo grins. 

“Yes, okay! Nyma, I dare you to leave an R-rated voicemail for one of your ex-boyfriends,” Rolo says, a glint in his eyes, and she stares at him. 

“You’re fucking high,” She mutters, opting to take a shot of rum instead. There are a few grumbles from the other players, and things continued on. They went clockwise, giving out dares and questions for a few rounds before reaching Keith. 

“Keith! If you had to have sex with someone in the group, who would you choose?” Some boy asks, and Keith flushes red, his eyes immediately flicking towards Lance. 

“Oh… uh. I dunno,” He starts, glancing at Lance again, causing the younger boy’s face to heat up, “Rolo.” He says a few seconds later, shrugging, and Lance clenches his teeth together as he watches Rolo giggle, laying himself across Keith’s lap and making a crude comment about how hot their sex would be. 

“Rolo, I dare you to make out with Keith for 60 seconds!” Nyma says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, and Lance’s hands curl into fists, resting in his lap. 

He watched in horror as Rolo leaned up to kiss Keith, shoving his pink tongue in the dark-haired boy’s mouth obscenely. The sound of their kissing made Lance want to claw his ears off. 

After what felt like an eternity, Nyma informed them that a minute had passed, and they pulled apart, lips red and swollen. Lance didn’t pay attention to the next couple of people, trying to get the image of Keith kissing Rolo out of his head. 

Then Keith said his name, and his eyes widened as he looked over. 

“I know! I have the perfect one! It’s perfect” Rolo practically screams, clapping his hands, “So you’re gonna go in the kitchen, and we’re all gonna pour a shot. When you come back, you’re gonna take the shot, and then for the next full round, you have to sit in that person’s lap!”

“What person’s lap?” Lance asked apprehensively. 

“Whoever poured the shot you chose!” He said, rolling his eyes and pointing towards the kitchen. Lance stands, walking out of the room and waiting to be called back inside. 

“Laaance!” Rolo screams, and he laughs as he goes back in, dropping to his knees in front of the shot glasses. He leaned down, smelling the different shot glasses until he picked one up that was almost definitely a tequila shot. 

“I should have brought salt,” He said before tossing it back, his face screwing up at the taste. Everyone cheers for him, and when he opens his eyes, everyone is looking at the one and only Keith Kogane. 

“C’mon, pretty boy. Keith’s plenty comfy, I promise,” Rolo says, and Lance stumbles over, sitting gently across Keith’s lap, staring at him. 

“Hi,” Lance says dumble, and Keith lets out a breathy chuckle before saying it back. The game continues with dares 

Strip down to your bra and underwear.

What do you think of when you masturbate.

Have you ever cheated?

Let Christian spank you ten times.

What’s your kinkiest fantasy?

Call pizza hut and order 100 sardine pizzas. 

 

Lance was only barely paying attention, the feeling of Keith’s solid body beneath his, Keith’s left hand resting on his hip to make sure that he stayed stable. He could feel Keith’s breaths on the back of his neck. 

“Keith, would you have sex with Lance? And if yes, give us some steamy details!” Someone says, and lance turns the brightest shade of red that anyone had ever seen. 

“Oh… uh. I mean, Lance is kind of my student,” Keith reminded everyone, but he received a chorus of ‘no one cares’ and ‘but look at him, he’s cute’ and ‘no one’s judging’ Keith lets out a shakier breath than normal. 

“I mean, yeah. He’s hot. Like… anyone would have to be stupid not to see that,” And Lance can almost  _ hear  _ Keith’s blush. He remembers what Keith looks like underneath him. 

“I mean… I’d…” he groans, his head falling to Lance's shoulder, hiding in the soft blue fabric there. 

“It’s all good, Keith.” the words fall from Lance's lips before he even thinks them, “I’m not gonna freak out. Besides, I’m sure everyone is just  _ dying  _ to know what you’d do to me,” Lance’s words were unwaveringly confident, and some people laughed, some whistled, and some made suggestive comments. 

“I mean like… I’d let him fuck me. I’d also fuck him. I’m sure he’s gorgeous when he orgasms. I bet he’s loud. He sucks at shutting up, so it would make sense,” Keith says quickly, almost tripping over his words in his haste. 

“Yeah, I’m noisy,” Lance says, laughing. 

“That wasn’t very steamy! Give us something kinks. What kink would you try with him?” A girl asked, and Lance thinks her name is Axca. 

“I mean… I’d uh… I dunno. Maybe I’d like… let him tie me up. Or blindfold me. Or something like that,” And now Keith’s words are slow, calculated as if he is trying to hold back his actual answer. But the other players think that’s good enough and they move on to Rolo. 

_ I’d like let him tie me up or blindfold me.  _

Keith’s words echoed in his head, bounding around inside of his skull, and when it finally gets back around to him, he stands up, moving back to his original seat, plopping down. 

“Dude, I dare you to try and seduce Keith,” Rolo says, laughing as he says it, “Give him some of your best lines. How would you pick him up at a bar,” Rolo adds, and Lance smirks over at Keith. 

“I’m not old enough to go to a bar,” Lance feigns innocence, and Keith rolls his eyes, muttering something. But Lance stands up, closing his eyes for a second before opening them, zeroing in on Keith, sauntering over making sure to sway his hips a bit, putting on a show. He sits beside Keith on the couch, smiling over at him softly. 

“Hello, beautiful. You here all alone?” Lance says, his voice lower, and he could have sworn that Keith sucked in a sharp breath. He nodded feebly, and Lance continued. 

“Well, now. That doesn’t make any sense. A pretty little thing like you alone at the bar. Everyone here is missing out,” And lance’s hand settles on Keith's thigh, and he leans in to make eye contact with him to make sure that it was okay. 

“I’d like to buy you a drink. You look like a vodka kind of guy… sobieski?” Lance says cooly, smirking at him, his eyes still trained on Keith’s. Keith nods again, his entire face bright red. 

“Holy shit, he guessed your drink, babe!” Rolo breaks the tension, and Lance gets a round of applause from the entire circle. 

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night, ladies and gents,” He says cockily, standing back up and making his way to his chair. 

He keeps staring at Keith for the rest of the game. 

 

An hour or two later, everyone disperses, going to do other things. Lance has made his way back to the kitchen, grabbing a handful of pretzels. 

“You’re a little shit.” Lance turned around to face Keith, his eyes wide. 

“I’m not quite sure what you mean?” Lance says innocently, but the left side of his mouth quirks up into a smirk, and Keith shakes his head, laughing breathlessly. 

“Oh, you know exactly what you did,” He says, and Lance shrugs, eating some of his pretzels. 

“Tell me, you use those lines on everybody?” He asks then, and Lance can tell that the older boy is a little bit upset. 

“No, but if I remember correctly… they worked the first time.”

“The vodka was a nice touch,” Keith said after a minute, his body relaxing. And Lance grins widely, nodding. 

“Anything for my sorority girl,” He teased, and Keith rolled his eyes annoyedly. 

The silence that settles around them is comfortable. Lance is eating pretzels, leaning against the marble countertop, and Keith is a foot away, lost in thought as he stared at the younger boy. 

“Cat got your tongue?” lance asks, and Keith frowns a little. 

“Do you smoke?” He asks, and Lance's nose scrunches up. 

“Cigarettes are gross,” is all that Lance says in response, but Keith rolls his eyes again. 

“No, dipshit. Weed. Do you smoke weed?” And Lance’s eyes widen. He shakes his head slowly, his cheeks turning pink underneath Keith’s stare. 

“I’ve never tried,” He admitted, and Keith nods. 

“Would you uh… wanna come downstairs and uh…  _ try _ . With me. Weed, I mean,” And Lance can feel hot nervous Keith is. The same excitement bubbling in his own stomach. 

“Lead the way.”


	5. Twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: there's weed in this chapter. Sorry, yo, I'm from Colorado, and it happens here! This is the only chapter that has any drug use though. Scout's honor.
> 
> Here to take my medicine. Take my medicine.

The basement was mostly empty as the party had migrated outside, although many students had gone home already. Keith led Lance to the couch before jogging off and returning with a blunt and a lighter a minute later. He smiled at the younger boy, sitting down beside him, their thighs touching lightly. 

“Okay, just so you know. This shit kind of burns,” Keith informed, his nose doing the cute little scrunch that made Lance’s stomach do somersaults. 

“Also, I haven’t had anything to drink.  So if I try to drive, just like… know that I’m sober,” He added, and Lance raised his eyebrows. 

“Is high any better?” He asked, and Keith shrugged, lighting the blunt and taking a drag, holding it in for a moment before letting it out. 

Lance’s eyes were plastered on his lips, vaguely seduced by the look of Keith’s lips wrapped around the blunt. 

And suddenly it was in front of his face, still in Keith’s hand, and Lance leaned in, sucking in and immediately coughing, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as his eyes watered. 

“Shit, sorry. Too much. You uh… less, okay?” Keith says, guilt dripping from his voice, and Lance’s breathing is ragged. 

“Fucking shit,” Lance rasps, his voice thick, “Why does anyone  _ do  _ this. It  _ hurts _ !” 

“I told you that it burns. Here… uh… if I try something, will you freak out?” Keith asks, and Lance shakes his head slowly, staring at the older boy. 

“Okay just… don’t freak out,” He says again, taking a drag and holding it for a second before pulling Lance in, exhaling some of the smoke into Lance’s mouth, their lips connected. When Keith pulls back, he grins. 

“Lance, you’re holding your breath. You have to let it out,” He coaxes, and Lance exhales sharply, eyes locked on the dark-haired boy. 

“Wow… uh, that was-”

“A shotgun kiss. Or shotgunning,” Keith informs, “It’s a little less intense than just smoking. I figured I could control how much you had. You probably wouldn’t choke again,” Keith rambled, and Lance smiled up at him. 

“Do it again,” He demanded, and keith raised his eyebrows. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, and Lance just nodded as Keith raised the blunt to his lips, taking a drag before leaning in to kiss Lance. It was soft and short, and Lance was frustrated when he pulled away. 

They sat there for a while, exchanging slow shotgun kisses and chatting. When the blunt was finished, Keith laid back, staring at the ceiling. 

“I don’t really feel anything,”

“Give it a minute,” Keith said softly, closing his eyes and humming. 

So Lance did as he was told, keeping quiet and laying back alongside Keith, feeling a warmth wash over him, different than the feeling of alcohol. He didn’t feel impaired or sluggish. He felt warm, like everything had a soft sepia glow to it. 

“Keith,” He whispered, giggling, and the pale boy opened his eyes, looking over at him, “Wow, you’re really pretty and like… 3D.” Keith snorted, nodding slowly. 

“Babe, I’m always three dimensional. It kind of comes with being a-”

“No! I can see all of you. You’re so  _ vivid _ . You’re so pretty. You look soft,” And Lance wonders if he sounds young, his voice lilting and high, spinning out in front of them, he can almost see it. 

“Thanks, lance. You’re very pretty too,” He says, sitting up then and frowning, “‘m hungry. Wanna eat something,” he says, and Lance’s eyes widen. 

“Wow, food. That sounds so good. I could like… eat it all. Like so fast. I just wanna,” He stops when Keith laughs, forming creases around his eyes, Lance reaches out, touching the soft skin of keith’s temple. 

“Wow.” 

Keith smiled mischievously, “Pretzels,” is all that he says, dragging lance up the stairs to the kitchen where they devour all of the pretzels in just a couple of minutes. 

“Lance, I need a cheeseburger. Let’s go get cheeseburgers!” Keith says excitedly, and Lance shakes his head. 

“Can’t. Came here with Pidge and Hunk. Can’t disappear,” Lance informs, and Keith shakes his head. 

“No, c’mon. I’ll take you home,” he promises, opening Rolo’s fridge, pulling out a cheese stick, “Please!” 

“I gotta find them and tell them that I have a ride,” Lance informs, nodding and turning around, peeking outside to see Hunk chatting it up with a girl, he grins, walking over confidently. 

“Hey, Hunk. I gotta go get cheeseburgers with Keith. He’s being so needy!” Lance says, and Keith smiles, watching from the doorway. 

“What? Dude, you good? Are you drunk? You guys shouldn't be driving if you’re drunk,” But lance shakes his head slowly. 

“No no no no. Keith is sober. Keith’ll drive. We just want some food. There’s no food here. We ate all the pretzels,” He tries to explain, and Hunk nods slowly. 

“You’re drunk  _ and  _ high. Should you really be going out with some guy?” And Lance swats him. 

“No, silly. I’m like barely tipsy. I had one beer and one margarita and one tequila shot. And only a little weed,” He adds as an afterthought, “But Keith is fine. And he’s not some guy. He’s  _ Keith _ . And he said that he’s even drive me home. So it’s all good. You just gotta tell Pidgey!” And Hunk nods, his eyes moving to give Keith a once over. 

“What have you had to drink?” He asked, and keith shook his head soberly. 

“Nothing at all, scout’s honor,” Keith assured, and hunk nodded, telling lance to text him if he needed a ride or if anything came up. Lance planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek before running to Keith, dragging him towards the front door. 

They walked down the driveway, and Lance let Keith take the lead, not knowing which car belonged to him. 

When Keith stopped in front of a motorcycle, his jaw dropped. He looked between the motorcycle and keith. 

“What?” He asked dumbly, and Keith laughed, pulling the Helmet onto Lance’s head. 

“Okay. You’re gonna ride behind me. Just wrap your hands around my waist, and for the love of all things holy, do not let go,” Keith says, and Lance just nods dazedly. 

Keith straddles the motorcycle, and Lance eyes him hungrily, biting his bottom lip. 

“C’mon. We gotta go get some cheeseburgers,” He reminded, and Lance settled in behind him, clutching at his abdomen. 

The ride is short, and Lance cowers into keith’s back, squeezing him tight. 

They park outside of the Mcdonalds, and Keith gets up, steadying Lance’s dizzy figure. He laughs, the most wonderful sound in the world, and Lance looks up adoringly, pulling off the helmet to get a better look at him. 

“Wow,” he says, and keith blushes, hiding his face. Keith reminded himself that getting drunk and then getting high can get people really twisted. He took the boy’s hand, leading him inside before pulling out his wallet. 

“Order as much as you want. It’s on me,” Keith says, and lance grins. 

“Wow, mullet. Is this a date?” He teased, and keith rolled his eyes, nudging him gently. 

“No, you dork,” He says, but his words are fond. They end up ordering forty chicken nuggets, eight cheeseburgers, and two large fries before finding a booth in the corner. 

“Mullet! I would like to tell you that you were the best sex that I’ve ever had, and I am quite offended that you’d rather sleep with Rolo,” Lance says, and Keith flushes red, shaking his head. 

“I don’t want to have sex with Rolo. He isn’t my type,” Keith argues, eyes stuck on his own hands, folded on the table idly. 

“Then why’d you say it, mullet. You kept looking at me, and I thought you were gonna say my name. And then you  _ didn’t _ ,” Lance sounds genuinely upset, and Keith sighed, opening his mouth but staying silent. 

“Lance. It’s just a stupid game, okay? Don’t think too much about it,” He says, and Lance pouts, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“I want an answer, Mullet. And I am not stopping until-”

“You’re my student, Lance. I’m already like… incredibly fucked because of everything I’ve done up to this point. And the more I acknowledge that I… I’m supposed to be teaching you. And having sex with you compromises my like.. Grad student ethics or something,” He says hastily, and lance smiles. 

“Ah, so you do want to have sex with me!” He says triumphantly, and Keith just rolls his eyes, hoping that the alcohol would wear off soon. 

“Lance, I can’t do that,” He reminds, and Lance shrugs, grinning at the pale boy. 

“Who cares, anyway. You can teach me and also-”

“Lance,” He warns, and lance drops it. 

A moment later, their food arrives, and they eat in silence, both stuffing their faces until there is no more food left to eat. 

“Mmmm, thank you, Keith. There is so much food in me… why could I eat more?” 

“One time, I ate two whole pizzas in one sitting,” Keith admitted, blushing red, “Not that I actively smoke or anything. Just when I go to parties and it’s there. And I only go to like two parties a year,” And Lance smiles, giggling. 

“Afraid i won’t like a bad boy?”

“It doesn’t matter if you like me. We’re just like… section mates… friends, maybe,” 

“Friends that like to have hot, steamy sex,” Lance reminds, and Keith groans, hiding his face in his hands. 

“C’mon, I gotta take you home,”Keith informs, standing up, and Lance’s face looks absolutely shattered, his eyebrows drawn together. Something deep in Keith’s stomach twists, “Hey, no. Don’t look so sad.”

Lance sighs dramatically, “I thought we were like… bonding. And having fun. I thought we could keep having fun, Keith!” He whines, and Keith smiles down at the young boy (he really did look like an 18 year old there in that moment). 

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, and Lance shrugged, muttering something about movies or stars or talking. 

“Well, we left the party,” Keith reminded, shaking his head, “And I’m not really in the mood to go back to the party. I need to be sober enough to get home, and I’m too introverted to go back.” 

“You could come over to mine? We could-”

“I am not watching netflix on your laptop in your dorm room,” Keith interrupts, and Lance frowns, looking like a small, kicked puppy. Keith swallows thickly before letting the next statement exist outside of his head, “How about we go to mine?”

And the air shifts. Lance looks up curiously, nodding once. 

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” Lance stood up sharply, following Keith back out to the motorcycle, pulling the helmet on and curling up behind Keith again, slotting behind him perfectly. 

The ride was longer, the cool late summer air whipping around them as they rode downtown, parking outside of Keith’s apartment complex. 

Lance followed him up to the familiar one bedroom apartment. Keith unlocked the door, letting him in. This time, they sat on the black suede couch. They didn’t speak too much, both of them unsure in the darkness. They picked a movie and put it on. Lance shuffled closer, slowly leaning his head on Keith’s shoulder. 

By the end of the movie, Keith was almost completely sober, and Lance seemed to be in the same place. 

“Movies are fun with weed,” Lance whispered, and keith just nodded, looking over at the clock. It was about three in the morning. 

“I… uh… you can stay tonight. If you want,” Lance doesn’t respond at first, “I mean, it’s mostly selfish. I really don’t want to drive you back to campus. And I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow morning to apologize. If you stay this time, that is,” He added at the end, and Lance raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know how you felt about that. About me… being there, y’know,” Keith rolls his eyes, standing up and going to the bedroom. Lance follows behind him. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch? I know you’re being all weird about not wanting to-” Keith is kissing him then, his hand resting gently on the younger boy’s cheek. Lance is startled, but he responds quickly, his tongue darting out to trace Keith’s bottom lip. 

Keith opens his mouth, their tongues meeting, and he whines softly as Lance’s hands move to his hair. 

“Fuck, wait,” Keith forces out breathlessly, pulling away, his pupils huge, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” He reminds, and Lance shakes his head. 

“We’re both adults. It isn’t illegal. I’m consenting. I’m saying yes.” Lance says, and he had never wanted anyone more in his lifetime, his stomach knotting up. 

“Fuck… I just don’t want to ruin our-”

“It isn’t ruining anything Keith. What do you want?” He asked, and Keith swallowed thickly, his eyes dragging down lance’s body. 

“I want you… I want you to fuck me,” He says, voice tight. 

Lance smashes their lips together again, tugging gently at the hair resting at the nape of keith’s neck, drawing out a small whine from the other boy. 

Lance drinks in the sounds, pushing him back towards the bed, pushing him gently and moving to straddle him, grinding down on Keith’s growing member, moaning at the feeling of friction. 

“Nnng Lance,” keith’s voice is raspy with smoke and need, his eyes blown wide, still bloodshot. Lance grinds down again, biting his lip. 

“C’mere and kiss me you stupid-” But lance is kissing down his neck, nipping at the smoothe, cream colored skin, pulling back to discard Keith’s black shirt, marveling at the beautiful, sculpted abs.

“Do you work out? You have to. You’re so gorgeous,” Lance says, and Keith takes in a sharp breath, acutely aware of how different this is now that he knows Lance. It’s the kind of decision that changes everything. 

“Are you sure, Lance. I-”

“Keith, if you don’t want this, I’ll stop right now. But I  _ want  _ this. I want to  _ feel  _ you. I want to see that gorgeous face you make when you-” Keith whines, cutting off his sentence, and he hides his face in his hands. 

“Hey, Keith. Don’t hide. Let me see you,” He pleads gently, taking hold of Keith’s wrists, pulling them away from his face. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” 

And Keith nods, staring up at him with those beautiful violet eyes. 

 


	6. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mess around with him, and I'm okay with it.

It didn’t take long for both men to be completely naked, clothes and shoes strewn across the floor.

“Keith, I have a question,” Lance says, nipping gently at the older boy’s jaw, his hands exploring the taut muscles in his back.

“hmm?” he acknowledges Lance passively, one hand tangled in his brown hair.

“CanItieyouup?” And Keith froze, his eyebrows raising, cheeks flushed a beautiful pink. Lance bites harder before continuing, “you just… mentioned it. And I can't stop thinking about it.”

And Keith is surprised by how forward it is. He leans back, giving him a slow once-over.

“I uh… don't necessarily have the uh… supplies for that? Like I don't own any restraints or anything,” Keith explains, running a hand through his long, tangled hair.

“I mean… it's cool if you don't want too. I just thought that I’d ask,” the younger boy says, and Keith sighs, fumbling to get Lance off of his lap so that he can disappear into the closet.

He returns holding a necktie. The black tie is striking against Keith’s cream-colored skin. He handed the tie to Lance before sitting back down more flustered than he had been before.

“How do you want me?” Keith’s words are blunt, and he’s making direct eye contact, “You aren't gonna make me call you sir or anything, are you?”

And Lance laughs boisterously, shaking his head.

“No. Definitely not. This isn't 50 shades,” he jokes, leaning in to press their lips together in a slow kiss, stroking his cheek.

“So. We have some options. I can tie you to the bedpost. I can just tie your hands above your head… or I can tie your hands behind your back and fuck you into the mattress doggy style.” And Keith nearly chokes at that, his eyes widening. But he turns around, his hands behind his back.

“mmm, so pretty,” Lance says then, slowly looping the tie around his wrists, “You have to let me know if they’re too tight, okay?” and Keith nods, not trusting his voice to function correctly.

Once Lance is done with the tie, Keith tugs lightly, testing the knot, and he nods, muttering a soft approval.

He shudders then as Lance’s hands trail from his shoulder to the curve of his ads, fingertips brushing gently against his skin.

“Lance, just-”

“Shh, let me admire you,” the younger boy argues, still stroking at Keith’s warm back. A moment later, a hand is on his shoulder, and Lance pushes gently until Keith’s folded over, head resting on a pillow. Keith spreads his legs instinctively, and Lance hums gently.

“So pretty like this. So vulnerable,” he muses, and Keith mumbles something incoherent under his breath, “What was that?”

He is met with Keith’s silence.

“Is it alright if I-”

“ _yes_ ,” Keith cuts him off, voice deeper than normal.

Lance nods, leaning over him to find the lube and condoms in the bedside table drawer, grinning triumphantly as he pulled them out. His hands snake down, pulling Keith’s cheeks apart further before dipping down to bite his right cheek gently. Keith’s breath hitches.

“What is up with you biting my ass? I think you left a bruise last time,” he says, straining to look over his shoulder in search of the younger boy.

“Dunno. You just look delicious, I guess,” the younger boy supplies, and Keith’s eyes flutter closed at the sound of the lube being opened.

Keith moans softly as Lance tentatively pushes the tip of his finger inside of him, head falling back to the pillow. He pushes his hips back, wanting more, but Lance just chuckles, taking his time to press all the way in.

“Eager,” he notes, and Keith can hear the smile. He just whines, still pressing back on Lance's finger.

“Lance, I-nnng,” and Lance crooks his finger, brushing against the older man’s prostate and grinning.

“What was that?” he teased gently, pulling out before adding a second finger, pumping them in and out slowly, working his way up to a third finger. When Keith was a writhing mess, he pulled his fingers away completely.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?” he says, both a warning and a promise. Keith nods feebly, his jaw already slack. He can hear Lance put on the condom, and he whines softly.

Lance just chuckles, dipping to kiss the small of his back before lining his dick up and pushing in, bottoming out in a few seconds. Keith groans, embracing both the pain and the sweet pleasure that lingered behind it.

Lance gives him a moment to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, setting a fast pace. The room is filled with the noise of skin on skin, and Keith just whines, eyes closed as he just lets Lance have him.

A couple of minutes later, Keith feels a hand between his shoulder blades, and Lance shifts, causing the younger boy to choke out a loud noise.

“found it,” Lance says, but Keith is too distracted by the near constant thrusts hitting the perfect spot.

And it isn’t too many more minutes before he’s coming, untouched.

Lance could swear that he’s never seen something so beautiful in his entire life, the older boy arching his back and moaning his name, fade smashed into the bed. He finds his own release a minute later before dropping down, draping himself over the older boy.

“Lance… you gotta…” and he pulls at the tie. The younger man nods, sitting up and undoing the knots before rubbing at the skinned Keith’s wrists, dipping to kiss them both.

And when Lance stands up to discard this condom, Keith flips onto his stomach, grimacing and rolling his shoulders.

“You alright? Did I hurt you? You should have said something. I would’ve u-”

“No, it was great. You’re great. Shoulders are a bit sore, but that's worth it… but my comforter has cum on it. So I gotta take it off and go get us some blankets instead. Cuz that’s disgusting,” Keith explains, sitting up and smiling lazily.

They pull the comforter away together before Keith pulls on a pair of underwear, throwing some to Lance and sauntering off to find a blanket. He returns, dropping onto the bed and smiling at the younger boy.

“I’m so fucked,” he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. Lance just shrugs, moving closer so that he can get under the covers.

“Nah. We’ll deal with that tomorrow. It’s time to sleep,”

 

Keith wakes up on his back, Lance draped over him, face in his neck. And he just sighs, his hand drawing small shapes on the younger boy’s back.

He knew that now, there was no way to fix it. There was no taking back what he had done earlier that morning. But he was calm, somehow unafraid. His hands stilled, and he smiled softly.

“n- don’t stop,” the younger boy said into his neck, and Keith’s smile widened.

“Well, good morning,” he said softly, rolling so that they were both on their sides, facing each other.

“Morning,” Lance said back, yawning once before staring at Keith. He wasn't sure what to say.

“What kind of breakfast would you like? Eggs? Waffles? Pancakes?” Keith asked, and Lance smiles a little.

“I get breakfast?” he asked, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“I told you that last night,” and Lance nodded. He hadn't believed that Keith would actually get up and make breakfast.

“Pancakes, please,” he says, and Keith nods, standing up and stretching. Lance’s eyes trail down his abdomen.

“You have abs,” he said dumbly, and Keith smirks down at him, nodding once.

“Go take a shower, and I’ll get started on food,” he says, going to his dresser and pulling on a shirt and a pair of jeans before heading to the kitchen, “clean towels are under the sink,” he calls over his shoulder.

Keith hums softly, as he gets all of the ingredients out, mixing up a batter as he listens to the sound of running water. It all feels oddly domestic to Keith. He stands there, pouring batter on to the pan, chuckling as he hears the water turn off.

He flips the pancakes, moving to grab a couple plates from the cabinet.

His eyes widen when there’s a knock at the front door. He stumbles back, almost dropping the plates onto the counter. He moves the food to the plates before walking over and opening the door, swallowing thickly.

“You missed the gym this morning. I texted you 10 times, Keith,” Shirk says, pushing inside, “I know you went to Rolo's last night, but you promised me that we were still on for eight.” Shiro frowns, noticing the two plates on the counter, “is someone here? Did you blow me off for-”

“Keith, I hope you don't mind. I took one of your shirts. Mine’s kind of gross and- _oh_ ,” Lance freezes, eyes trapped on Shirk for a moment before he looks down, “Right uh… I’m gonna go put on some… pants,” he says, quickly turning on his heels and closing the bedroom door.

“Keith… please don’t tell me that's who I think it is.”

He doesn't answer, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Do you want some Pancakes? I wasn't done cooking,” is all he says, voice quiet. Shiro sighs, nodding and going to pull down a third plate.

Keith goes back to making pancakes, his cheeks still bright red. He could feel Shiro’s gaze, but he didn't want to look up. A moment later, Lance entered the kitchen again, wearing his jeans.

“Uh, hi, by the way. I’m Lance,” he says, putting out his right hand. Shiro grasped it firmly with his prosthetic.

“Hi. I'm Shiro, Keith’s older brother.” And Lance smiles nervously, clearing his throat.

“It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry about that. I didn't know anyone else was here,” he said softly, taking the plate that Keith offered him and lingering by the table.

“Well, if Keith hadn't bailed on my this morning, I wouldn't be here,” Shiro says, following Lance to the table and sitting down.

“I had a late night. I'm sorry.” Keith sat down, crossing his arms and staring at his brother annoyedly.

“Yeah, I gathered that” Shiro said under his breath, and Keith’s eyes narrowed.

“If you're just going to be a dick, get out of my apartment, Shiro.”

Lance glances between the two boys anxiously, swallowing thickly. Eventually, he spoke with a soft voice.

“I’m really sorry, Shiro. I wish I had made a better impression, and I would have set an alarm if I had known that Keith had plans today. I can go if you two want,” his words were steady, but he looked unsure.

“No, stay,” Keith said, his expression softening, “I’m sorry. You know how family can be,”

Lance nods, eating his pancakes. The three men settled into a silence for a long while as they ate.

“So, Lance. How old are you?” Shiro asked eventually, and Lance stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, uh… I’m really young for my age. I just turned eighteen,” and Shiro glances towards Keith.

“And you're studying what?”

“Saxophone performance,” Lance barely whispers, sounding almost ashamed.

“I see,” Shiro says herself, and Keith clenched his jaw.

“Oh, get over it, Shiro. Yes, Lance is young. And yes, I fucked up. And yes, you're pissed at me but like… give it a rest, okay? You're making him uncomfortable,” Keith snapped, standing up to clear their plates, storming over to rinse them and place them in the dishwasher, “Now, if you wouldn't mind. I have to drive him home. I’ll call you later.”

And Shiro nodded, standing up before turning to Lance.

“It was nice to meet you, Lance.” He said before leaving.

“Nice to meet you too,” Lance muttered softly before the door shut. Both boys remained silent for a while before Keith sighed.

“I’m sorry about that… He’s really protective and kind of Judgy. And I told him about last time and he told me not to be stupid… and I was…” Keith tried to explain, and Lance just frowned.

“You're not stupid,” he argued, following the older boy into the bedroom, “how old are you?”

“I'm 22. 23 in October.” He said, making the bed before turning to Lance, “a lot older than you.”

Lance went to argue, but Keith walked past him’ “A lot older than you are. C’mon. I've got to get you home.”

Lance lingers near the couch, following after slowly, “can't we like… talk about this first? Shouldn't we-”

“Lance, I need some time, okay? I need to figure everything out. Can we talk later?” and Lance paused, nodding once. He had never heard Keith so dejected, the older boy plagued with what Lance could only assume was doubt.

“C’mon. I've gotta get you home.”


	7. Dizzy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

“What the hell, man! I was so worried about you. I’ve been bothering pidge all morning.” Lance just stares at Hunk, shrugging just barely before pushing inside their room farther, pulling a new outfit from his closet. His clothes smelled of weed and sweat, and Lance was absolutely disgusted. 

“Lance, I’m serious. You told me that Keith was going to bring you home, but you were still gone this morning. And I don’t know him. He could have hurt you, Lance. You could have gotten in a car crash or something. And you didn’t even text me,” Hunk begins again, voice harsher than Lance had heard it. 

Lance lingers near the closer, hands tightening around his blue sweatshirt. He swallowed thickly, taking in a shaky breath/

“He wouldn’t hurt me, Hunk. He’s a good guy. I’m sorry… I… “ His voice cracks, and suddenly, Hunk’s large hand is resting gently on his left shoulder. 

“Hey, lance… It’s okay. I was just worried. Are you sure you’re alright, man?” And Lance sucks in a harsh breath than, biting his tongue sharply, the metallic taste of blood permeating the space, “Lance?” 

And he’s crying then, and it isn’t gentle. His hands are trembling, and he’s heaving with the weight of his sobs. 

Hunk pulls him tightly to his chest, rubbing the younger boy’s back reassuringly. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, holding him tightly until Lance had run out of tears, standing there, shaking slightly. 

“Lance… I understand if you don’t want to talk about it… but something is obviously wrong, and I don’t want you to feel alone, okay buddy?” And lance just nods dumbly, looking up at Hunk. 

“I… I think I ruined everything,” He whispers, and Hunk shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t believe that. C’mon. I’ll make us some snacks and we can sit in bed, okay?” Hunk says, quickly moving to prepare a few snacks and some hot cocoa. A couple of minutes later, they were huddled on Hunk’s small bed, close together. 

And then Lance begins his story, telling Hunk everything. Hunk interrupts occasionally to get clarification. 

“Wait, what? So you shower up to your first lesson… and he didn’t try to switch you to a different teacher?”

“There isn’t another teacher yet. Until next semester, Thace’s full. And Keith is the only sax graduate student,” Lance informs before continuing, telling him about the party and then about after, his cheeks flaring a bright red. 

When he finishes, Hunk is quiet for a while, sipping at his cocoa. 

“Well, I don’t think you ruined anything. I think he’s just as guilty as you are, if not even more so,” Hunk begins, somewhat apprehensive, “And I definitely think you need to talk about it, but… I also think there’s something that you aren’t telling me.” 

Lance remains silent for what seems like an eternity, the only noise being distant chatter from the hallway. 

“I can’t say it,” He says, finally. 

“You don’t have to. I’m not here to force you to do anything. I just want to help. And if you won’t say what I think you won’t say… that makes this a lot more complicated than it already is. Which is… yeah,” 

“That barely made sense, Hunk.” 

And silence envelopes them again, the room tense. 

“I really like him,” Lance whispers, barely audible, and Hunk sighs, slinging his arm over Lance's shoulders, giving him a one-armed hug. 

“Yeah, I figured,” He said, smiling up at the smaller boy. 

“Fuck, this sucks. He hates me now, and he’s never going to talk to me again. And I like  _ love  _ him. But it isn’t going to happen. And I quit. I can’t do it, okay?” He rants, voice growing increasingly more forceful, his teeth gritted by the end. 

“Hey, man. It’ll be okay,” 

“How?” He practically yells, eyes glassy, “How will it be okay? Even if he likes me back, it doesn’t  _ matter _ . Because he’s shut down and weird now. Because I fucking forced him to have sex with me, and now he isn’t going to be able to look me in the eye. And he’s never going to talk to me about it. God, he looked so fucking miserable. He looked like he fucking  _ hates  _ himself,” And Lance is crying again, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“You’re being too hard on yourself, buddy. He obviously doesn’t hate you. And you’re going to give him time, and then you guys will talk about it. And you’ll figure everything out.”

Lance groans, throwing his head back and wincing as it collided with the cinder block. 

“How did I fuck everything up this much?” 

“Lance, it’ll be fine,” Hunk promises. 

 

Keith avoids Shiro for two days before there is a sharp knock at his door on Monday night. He looks up from his laptop, standing up and walking over. 

“What do you want?” 

“You’re avoiding me.”

The two men speak at the same time before standing there and staring, the tension thick between them. 

“Can I come in?” Shiro requests after a minute, his voice softer. Keith just stands aside, shutting the door behind the larger man. Keith moves back to the couch, setting his laptop on the small coffee table. 

“Keith, it isn’t fair for you to avoid me like this. I didn’t do anything wrong,” Shiro says, still gentle as he moves to sit beside his younger brother. 

“Oh, fuck off, Shiro. You know exactly what you did,” Keith snaps, annoyedly. 

“Keith, I just asked him a few questions. I’m not the one who fucked up here. Or do I have to remind you that he’s your  _ student _ !” Shiro argues, and Keith’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing. 

“ _ God,  _ Shiro. Get off your fucking high horse. Do you have any idea what you did? I was going to fix it, and then you showed up and made everything worse!” 

“How were you going to fix it, Keith. You already had sex with him twice! I can’t believe you!” 

And Keith is standing then, every muscle in his body tense. 

“Fuck you, Shiro. Get the fuck out of my house!” His voice is shrill, higher than Shiro had ever heard it before, and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to respond. But Keith cuts him off. 

“ _ Get out or I’ll call the fucking cops, Shiro. I swear to fucking god,”  _

“Keith, calm down. I’m sorry, okay.”

“ _ No, it isn’t okay. You don’t  _ understand, _ Shiro. Get out of my house _ ,”

And Shiro is hugging him then, arms tight around his younger brother, holding him in place while he thrashes violently. 

“Let go of me you fucking-”

“Keith. I just want to talk, okay? I didn’t come here to attack you or judge you. I just want to talk about it,” He reasons, rubbing small, soothing circles on the smaller boy’s back. 

After a few minutes, Keith stills, dejectedly. 

Shiro sits back down, pulling Keith down beside him. 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. And I’m sorry about Saturday,” Shiro starts, prompting Keith to talk. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Is all that Keith says, his voice quiet and tense, “I tried, I just… he’s…  _ fuck _ . I… I don’t. I don’t know how to… I just…” 

“Keith, hey. It’s alright,” Shiro says. 

“I didn’t mean to do it. But he was there. And he looked so beautiful. And he’s so sweet. Fuck, he’s so sweet. And I wouldn’t talk to him. I told him that I needed time. I told him we’d talk later, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say to him. None of it fucking matters. I can’t fix any of it,” 

“I don’t think you should talk about it,” Shiro says, nodding once, and Keith frowns up at him, shaking his head. 

“Shiro-”

“No, hear me out. I can tell that he means more to you than he should. And I think that it would be best for both of you if you just tell him that you have a strictly professional relationship. Don’t humor the idea. And then, when he isn’t your student anymore if you want to revisit it… talk about it then,” Shiro says, shrugging once, and Keith nods slowly. 

He knows that Shiro is right. He knows that he shouldn’t be indulging in the thoughts of himself and Lance. He was supposed to be Lance’s teacher, and he was in a position of power. It was unethical to partake in anything more. He wouldn’t do that to Lance. 

“Okay,” He said softly, and Shiro raised his eyebrows, surprised by Keith’s willingness to put his feelings aside. Keith had always been impulsive. 

“That’s really mature of you, and I think Lance will understand,” Shiro said. Keith just snorts, shaking his head. 

“Hmm… that’s a bold assumption.” 

 

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Keith had successfully avoided Lance since the weekend. He had camped out in his office during the school day and had called out sick for rehearsal. Keith’s resolve was wavering, and he knew that one word from the younger boy would ruin everything. 

There was only one problem with the  _ avoid Lance McClain at all costs  _ plan. And that problem was 2 o’clock p.m. on Wednesday afternoon. 

Keith’s eyes were glued to his computer, specifically at the bottom right-hand corner. He pulled his hair back into a ponytail as the minutes ticked by. 

“Is it too late to cancel?” He muttered to himself, swallowing thickly and surveying his freshly bit fingernails. The knock on the door reverberated in his abdomen, a sickly sweet kind of dread filling him up. 

He stood up slowly, moving to open the door. 

Lance looked absolutely fucked. Keith’s eyes wandered across the younger boy’s face, startled by the bluish half moons underneath his eyes. Keith stepped to the side, gesturing for Lance to come in, watching the other man move slowly. 

“Good afternoon, Lance. I-”

“What the fuck?” 

And then they were bathed in silence, perfectly still and staring at each other. Keith wanted to sink into the floor, to disappear, to turn back the clock and undo every wrong decision. 

“Lance…” but he didn’t know what to say. He had resolved to shut everything down, and now, staring at the blue-eyed boy, the words were escaping him. 

“Where have you been?” Lance demanded, eyes narrowing, and Keith just shrugs, sitting down in his chair and glancing at the clock. Only two minutes had passed, “Oh, so you’re  _ avoiding  _ me now?” He says, voice getting louder. 

“Lance, stop yelling.” Keith pleaded, eyebrows knitting together, “I’m not avoiding you… I just-”

“Need some time?” Lance snaps, a sardonic laugh tumbling out of his lips. 

“God, is that such a crime?” Keith asks, voice desperate. If Lance would just stop pressing, everything would be fine. 

“Yes! I just want to talk, Keith,” Lance says, his volume escalating again. 

“There isn’t anything to talk about, Lance,” And Keith knew as soon as he said it that there was no taking it back. The younger boy’s demeanor instantly changed, “I can’t give you what you want. Not right now. I don’t have any magical answers or anything. I’m your teacher, Lance. And that’s it. End of story. Period.” And if Keith was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince the blue-eyed boy, no one ever had to know. 

Lance doesn’t speak for what feels like an eternity. It was the longest period of time Keith had ever witnessed a quiet Lance. 

“So that’s it then…” and his voice is wavering as if he’s holding back his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Lance. I’m not trying to hurt you,” Keith’s voice is softer now. Lance just shakes his head. 

“I have to go,” He says suddenly, exiting the room hastily. 

Keith stares at the open door. 


	8. Big Reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys and girls are in

Weeks passed and neither of the two young men felt any better about what had transpired. 

Keith woke up every morning with an uncomfortable sense of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He dragged himself from bed, showered, ate, put on whatever dark colored button-up was closest, and rode to school.

His classes were fine. He was excelling at everything, acing tests and amazing all of the faculty. But he could not escape the looming emptiness. 

Lance, on the other hand, was an actual disaster. He had been missing classes, oversleeping. He never wanted to practice or play. He didn’t even want to get out of bed. Not only was written theory the most devastating thing that could happen to his GPA, but he missed his family. He missed his mama and his abuela and all of his siblings. 

He woke up every day feeling more alone than he had thought possible. 

When he managed to get to class, he put on a grin, telling as many bad jokes as he could, hoping that no one would see the pain he was constantly in. 

 

“Hey, Lance!” Pidge called from their spot on the bench near their classroom. He eyed her wearily, wandering over and sitting down, “Long time, no see,”

“Yeah… sorry. I’ve been like… MIA or something,” He spoke, forcing a small smile. 

“Tell me about it, we have a test on Friday, and there’s no way you have any idea what’s happening,” they say, leaning their head on Lance’s shoulder. He remains silent, sighing once. 

“Yeah, it’s not great…” He said eventually, shrugging once, feeling the resistance from the weight of Pidge’s head. 

“We can get together? If you want, I mean. I made a study guide. You and Hunk and I can order pizza and work on it tomorrow night?” They offered, and Lance just nods, barely processing their words. 

“Yeah, that’d be great, Pidge. Thanks.”

After a minute of silence, Pidge looks up at Lance and frowns, “I’m worried about you. Do you need anything? You haven’t been acting like yourself lately,” 

Lance stands up then, pulling Pidge to their feet. 

“C’mon. We better get inside. Class is starting in a minute.” 

 

His lessons are no better. He attends them every week because he doesn’t want to get kicked out of the program. But every Wednesday when he knocks on the door, the sight of Keith knocks the air from his lungs. 

On this particular Wednesday, Keith can tell that Lance has not practiced (he could tell before, but he had assumed that at some point, Lance would get over it). 

After a particularly disastrous run through of his solo piece, Keith sighs softly. 

“What’s up, Lance?” He asks, and the younger boy frowns deeply, his eyes lifting to examine Keith’s expression. 

“What?”

“You heard me. What’s wrong. I can tell that you haven’t been practicing. You haven’t practiced in what, like a month?” Keith demands, but Lance just shrugs. 

“I dunno. Nothing’s up. I’m fine,” his words are terse. 

“Bullshit, Lance. I thought you wanted to be a professional sax player. You have to practice if you want to-”

“Since when do you care about what I want?” He retorts, sneering. 

Keith is quiet, his cheeks tinged pink, “of course I care about what you want, Lance.” his words are quiet, and his eyes settle on the floor. 

“No, Keith. You actively disregard what I want… you know exactly what I want,” He pushes, and Keith sighs annoyedly, looking up to make eye contact. 

“Lance, I am not disregarding what you want, okay?” 

“Yes, you are! God, how can you even say that with a straight face? You’re fucking crazy, Keith.” He argues, and the older boy doesn’t know what to say, remaining quiet. 

“I just wanted to talk, Keith!” 

“Then talk!” and his voice is louder than he wants it to be. Lance is actually quiet for at least two minutes before he starts talking again. 

“What did I do wrong?” He asks quietly, eyes falling to the ground, avoiding Keith’s gaze, “Did I hurt you? Like, I respect you enough to try and understand, but I can’t really figure out what I did? Is it because I pushed you. I didn’t think I was forcing you to like… do anything… but if you feel like I did, then I’m sorry.” He rushed out chest heaving. The sound of his pounding heart echoed in his ears. 

“No, Lance. God, no. I don’t… you didn’t force me to do anything,” Keith argued, moving a little bit closer to Lance, thinking for a minute, “And you didn’t do anything wrong, either. And I don’t hate you, okay?” He tried, and Lance nodded, still frowning. 

“Then why won’t you talk to me anymore? I don’t really understand what happened. Everything was fine and then it just likes… wasn’t anymore? And then you yelled at me, and now you’ll barely even look at me.” 

Keith allowed the silence to take over the room. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Being completely honest was not in his best interest, but he still needed to reassure the younger man that he hadn’t ruined anything. 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole. And I’m sorry that I yelled at you… I just don’t know what you expect from me, I guess? Because to me, it all seems really self-explanatory. Regardless of how either of us feels, right now, we need to have a professional relationship. And it was easier to be a piece of shit than it would have been to figure everything out,” Keith tried to explain. 

“So you’ve been avoiding me because it’s easier than confronting your feelings? Jesus, Keith… “ Lance said, shaking his head. 

“I just wanted to talk about how we were gonna work through everything. If you had just told me that you’d prefer to have a professional relationship with me, I would have understood. God, I’m not a kid, Keith. I can handle that,” He snapped, and Keith flinched, his shoulders tensing up. 

“I’m sorry,” He tried again, squeezing his eyes shut, “I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just a disaster, and I don’t know how to deal with anything,”

“That isn’t good enough, Keith. You can’t just push people away because it’s hard. Sure, sometimes everything sucks, but like… how can you expect anything to be good if you push everything away?” 

And Keith genuinely didn’t have an answer for that. He shrugged vaguely, avoiding eye contact. 

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff. It’s too much, okay? I don’t understand what you want from me,” He said, pleading Lance to give him a break. 

“I just want you to like… try. Just like try to not be an asshole. It really isn’t that hard, and I know you can do it.” Lance says, shrugging, “I dunno… just like stop being a dick? Treat me like a human being?” 

“I said I’m sorry, lance!” Keith says, feeling his resolve slowly slipping away. 

“Yeah, I heard you. But the thing is, I’m still mad, okay? I’m still confused. I still don’t know what I did wrong-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Lance! You were perfectly wonderful, okay?” He snapped, voice harsh. Both boys cringed at the words. 

“What? That makes even  _ less  _ sense.” 

“You were wonderful. You are wonderful. But we’re going for a strictly professional relationship, remember? And that’s really hard for me because you’re so fucking wonderful!” His voice was tense, and it was difficult for him to keep his volume down. 

“Oh…  _ oh _ ,” Lance mutters, chuckling uncomfortable, “I didn’t… I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine, Lance. But we have to keep it professional, and I’m doing my best, okay? I’m sorry,” 

And after playing his piece once more (it was a little bit better this time), Lance wandered back to his locker in a trance, putting his saxophone away. 

_ It’s really hard for me because you’re so fucking wonderful _ . 

Keith’s words kept repeating in his head, and he flushed pink, smiling softly. 

 

And another month passed, better than the previous month. It was getting cold, and Lance hadn’t taken off his favorite blue sweatshirt in almost a week. His classes droned on, and day by day, he slowly got better. It was the little things at first, he got up in the morning and went to class (which was definitely progress). Then he started practicing again and doing his homework. By midterms, his grades were back to passable. 

And Keith would look at him. Keith would smile that beautiful smile. And he could say hi. 

“Lance, I got you a date,” Pidge said one day, their face lit up, perhaps with mischief. 

“What? Are you insane?” He said, reaching over to ruffle their hair, causing an annoyed groan. 

“What I mean is, my friend Allura is having a get-together, and I was talking about you, and she thinks your cute. So we’re going.” They explained, fixing their hair. 

“So by date… you mean definitely  _ not  _ a date?” He reasoned, raising his eyebrows. Pidge just rolled their eyes. 

“Details. You’re coming right?” They asked, and Lance nodded. He didn’t know why they even had to ask. 

“Yeah, what time are we leaving?” 

 

The apartment was larger than he had expected, two stories with a spacious living room. Pidge pulled him inside by the hand, smiling and waving at everyone around the room. Lance hadn’t felt this out of place in a while. 

He walked over to the kitchen, surveying the various snacks and drinks around. Everything was classier than he was used to, foreign beer and actual finger foods. 

“The Belgian beer is pretty good,” And Lance snaps around, eyes wide as he stared up at the much taller man. 

“Oh… hi, Shiro. How are you?” He asked, words quieter than normal. Shiro smiled, eating a carrot (who the fuck has a veggie tray at their party?)

“I’m good, Lance. How are you?” Shiro responded politely, and Lance just shrugged, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“I’m fine, I guess. School’s hard. Life’s hard. Y’know… the usual,” He tries to sound lighthearted, but it falls flat, and Shiro smiles down at him sympathetically. 

“The first semester is always the hardest. It takes a while to adjust to everything,” Shiro says, and Lance just nods somberly. 

He gave Shiro a slow once over, unable to forget their first interaction. 

“I’m sorry…” He said, not really sure what he was sorry for. Maybe for making Keith oversleep. Or maybe for existing. 

“Don’t be. I’m just protective. He’s kind of dumb, you know. He used to be really reckless, and he always got hurt,” Shiro spoke calmly, opening a beer and offering it to Lance, “I know he’s old enough to take care of himself now, but it’s hard.” 

“I get it. I have two brothers and two sisters. It’s easy to feel like you have to protect everyone all the time,” He says, taking the beer cautiously, not wanting Shiro to think him irresponsible. He holds it while they talk about Lance’s family. 

“You can drink the beer, Lance. I know more about you than you’d probably like for me too. I know you drink. It’s fine,” And Lance’s cheeks heat up. He sips at the beer, settling into a silence. Shiro keeps eating the stupid vegetables. 

“So, how do you know Allura?” Shiro asks, and Lance chuckles, shaking his head. 

“I don’t. We have a mutual friend. Apparently, Pidge talked me up or something,” He shrugged, and Shiro raised his eyebrows. 

“Pidge? As in Pidge Holt?” Lance nods in response, sipping at his beer. 

“I work with Matt, Pidge’s older brother. They’re both geniuses,” Shiro remarks, and Lance nods, smiling. 

“Yeah, Pidge is actually insane. I don’t think they’ve slept a day in their life,” Lance says, “I haven’t met Matt though. I’ve just heard about him.”

The two talk for a few more minutes before Shiro excuses himself to go talk to some tall blonde girl named Romelle. Lance watches him as he goes, taking another sip of his beer before going over to Pidge. 

“No, seriously, Allura.” Pidge says through their giggles, “I promise it’ll work.” 

“What’ll work?” 

“Lance! I was wondering where you disappeared off to,” Pidge says, grinning. 

“I was talking to Shiro,” He says, and Pidge frowns. 

“How do you know Shiro?” 

“Long story?” Lance tries, and Pidge’s eyes narrow. Lance sighs annoyedly, “He’s Keith’s brother. I met him through Keith.”

“Wait! Keith, Keith?  _ Your  _ Keith?” Pidge demands, and Lance chokes on his beer, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Jesus, Pidge. He isn’t my Keith. You’re being ridiculous. We’re just friends,” Lance says, trying to play it off. 

It was then that he noticed the incredibly tall woman to Pidge’s left, wearing an amused expression. 

“So you’re the infamous Lance McClain?” She says, her melodic voice warming the room. Lance nods, eyes trapped on her face. 

“Yeah…” They stand in silence for a moment before she says anything else. 

“Well, your reputation has certainly preceded you. I keep hearing your name come up,” She says, smiling warmly and offering her hand. Lance shook it, nodding slowly and frowning. 

“I mean, I’m not that special?” He says, chuckling a little, but she laughs, shaking her head. 

“I know a few people who would very strongly disagree. But I am so glad that you decided to come!” She says, and he just nods, dumbfoundedly. 

“Yeah…” He says quietly, “Me too.”


	9. Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now I can taste it

Allura, as it turns out, is just as bisexual as Lance is. She’s also eloquent and intelligent and amazing. She was a double masters student, and her father was the dean of the school of arts and sciences. In other words, Allura was Perfect.

Lance had never met another human that was quite as captivating as she was, and in weeks, they were close friends. 

And Lance finally started to feel like a functional human being. 

 

“No, ‘Llura. I swear to god, this stupid assignment is going to actually by the death of me. My headstone will say something like ‘Here lies Leandro McClain, the shittiest composer that ever existed. Died while writing a four-part hymn because apparently, parallel octaves are like… the devil’s work or something’” Lance sounds grave, but Allura just raises her eyebrows. 

“Hmm… well, I don’t think that any of that is true, and I am sure your hymn will turn out fine. It cannot be that hard,” She encourages, and Lance shakes his head before taking a swig of his coffee. 

“Nah… I’m actual shit. I might actually kill my professor. She’ll look at it and spontaneously implode. That can happen, you know. I read a BuzzFeed article about it,” 

“I’m pretty sure that is not true, Lance,” Is all that she says, sipping her tea and smiling. 

Lance just watches her for a moment, her platinum hair falling in perfect, beachy waves. He smiles shakily, chuckling a little. 

“Have I said something wrong?” 

“No, Allura… Has anyone ever told you that you are the most gorgeous woman on the face of this earth?” He asks, continuing just seconds later, “Honestly, probably the entire universe. There is no way that anyone prettier than you could ever exist. You’re literally… I don’t know, stunning?” 

And her dark cheeks redden slightly, “Thank you, Lance. That’s very sweet,” 

And he has no response to that. He feels weightless, sitting there in the rundown coffee shop across from campus. He looks down at his hands, frowning a little bit. 

“I still… I just… I don’t know,” He mutters bitterly frowning at his hands. 

“You don’t know what, Lance?” SHe tries, and he just laughs again, sounding a bit off kilter. 

“You’re perfect… And I’m like a total piece of shit. And I ruin literally everything. And I keep looking for it. I keep searching for the way I’ll fuck this up,” He says, shrugging once. 

“Lance, you’re lovely. I don’t understand why you’re degrading yourself like this,” She argued, her hand moving towards his, spanning the small table. He lets her squeeze his hand once before pulling it away. 

“Everything feels like a dream?... One of those weird, fuzzy dreams where everything is so close to feeling normal, but like… something’s off?” 

And he knows that none of it makes sense. His words come out like a fever dream, confusing and fleeting. 

“You have to let everything settle,” She assures, pushing her hair off of her shoulder, “The first semester is hard for everyone. After the first semester, everything makes more sense. I promise,” 

“Will you come to my concert next week?”

Allura nods, smiling at him. 

“Of course I will, when is it?” 

Lance tells her all of the details. The concert is on Thursday, October 12. It’s a five dollar ticket for students, and it begins at 7:30. 

They finish their drinks while Allura rambles about the astronomy class that she TAs for, and Lance’s eyes keep wandering out the window, staring at the endless blue sky outstretched in front of him. 

He wishes that it would swallow him whole. 

 

His stomach was in his throat, and his fingers moved carefully. The rhythmic, steady lull of eighth notes filled the room, passing by like a hazy dream. His eyebrows remained furrowed, and he could feel the slick of his sweaty palms against the brass. 

He finished his five minute piece, but time stood still, outstretched in front of him. 

“Good, Lance. That was really good. I can tell you’ve been working on it,” Keith says, and Lance can fucking  _ hear  _ his stupid smile. 

“We just need to deal with your breathing… and articulations, and I guess also the phrasing. You’re thinking too hard. You need to feel it,”

Lance snorts, his face contorted. And he finally turns to look at Keith. 

“I’m serious, Lance. You have good instincts. No one can teach instincts… but you have to trust yourself enough to follow them,” 

It isn’t fair, of course. Because Lance knew that Keith was strictly talking about the music. Keith was talking about his ability to follow the music, allowing it to lead him through the journey. 

But he had already tried following his instincts, and it had kind of ruined everything. 

“If you’re trying to be motivational or something, it’s kind of shit. Like, you aren’t doing a very good job, Keith,” Lance says, forcing himself to keep a neutral expression. He didn’t want to talk about feelings today. 

“I’m not  _ trying  _ to do anything, Lance,” He said, “Except maybe like… help you? When you’re articulating, where does your tongue hit the reed?” 

“I don’t know!” Lance said, sounding exasperated, “Why would I know that? Jesus, Keith. I swear,” 

“Because you’re a musician, and we should always be aware of those kinds of things? I don’t know why you’re being all combative. I’m just trying to help you, Lance. I’m always just trying to help you, but it’s really hard sometimes,” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t think about where my tongue is hitting the reed. I didn’t even realize there was a problem with my articulation. I didn’t know that I should be thinking about that,” Lance argues, and Keith sighs, nodding. 

“Okay, can I mark some breaths in your music?” 

Lance nods, holding his breath when Keith stands up, walking over to the stand and leaning over, dark bangs falling in his eyes. 

He watches Keith clench and unclench his jaw, the small muscles tightening and releasing over and over again. Lance lets out his breath, shaky. And in a moment, Keith is gone, making his way back to his chair. And Lance can feel a wide kind of emptiness blossom inside of his chest. 

“Thanks,” He whispers, eyes scanning the music. 

 

The week crawls by slowly, and Lance can feel every minute. 

He sits down, alone in his dark dorm room, his composition laying idly in front of him. Without even thinking, he pulls out his phone, sending a text to Keith.

_ I’m going to fail written theory. _

Lance stares at the staff paper blankly for a minute, startled by the buzz of his phone. 

_ I doubt that. What are you working on? _

_ I have a composition due Monday and I can’t do it  _

_ Need some help?  _

Lance’s fingers hover above his keyboard, lip caught between his teeth. 

_ That would be great actually _

_ Mine or Yours? Or we can meet at fine arts if you’d prefer.  _

And Lance pauses again. Hunk would be back soon, but Keith’s apartment felt like a loaded gun. There was too much history. 

_ Fine arts? _

_ See you in 10 minutes. _

Lance shoves his laptop and notebook in his backpack, pausing to stare at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, dark purple bags under his eyes, hair falling flat across his forehead. He rummaged through his dresser for a hat, shoving on an old navy blue beanie. 

The walk was short, and he was sitting alone in the lobby a few minutes later, pulling out his stuff. 

Keith looked perfect, as always. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a worn red t-shirt clung to his frame. Lance swallowed, forcing a small smile. Keith pulled a chair up next to Lance before sitting down. 

“Hey,” Keith offered, his voice gentler than Lance had heard it in a while. 

“Thanks for this… really. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” Lance admitted, looking down nervously. 

“Lance, no one does,” Keith says, glancing over the work that he had already done. 

Keith analyzes the piece, marking things that broke any rules or didn’t make sense. After a few minutes, Lance huffed annoyedly. 

“See! I’m missing  _ everything _ ,” He whined to which Keith just rolled his eyes. 

“No, you really aren’t. Just some small problems. That’s easy to fix. How much more do you have to write?”

“I still have to do the B section and then the A section repeats,” He explains, and Keith smiles, prompting more questions before helping Lance craft his second section. 

An hour later, the composition is done (and perfect, according to Keith). Keith glances down at his watch, groaning annoyedly. 

“I’m starving. I was gonna make dinner when you texted me,” He says, and Lance's cheeks are beet red. 

“Sorry… we could go grab some food?” Lance offered, “On me… you know, for helping me,” 

Keith smiles, nodding and watching as Lance carefully files everything away in his backpack. 

“We should drop your backpack off?” Keith noted, and Lance nodded slowly as he remembered Keith’s motorcycle. 

“I can shove it in my locker downstairs. It isn’t a huge deal,” Lance mumbled, pushing past Keith and disappearing for a few minutes, returning without his grey backpack. 

While they walk, Lance chatters happily about his excitement for their concert the next night, and Keith just listens, only interrupting him to ask where they were going to eat and offering him the helmet. 

Lance chose a small diner near the outskirts of the city, a cute, retro hole in the wall. It’s a fifteen minute drive. 

Once inside, Lance plops down, shivering once. 

“I don’t know if I could ever get used to that,” He offered, smiling a bit, “It’s like… too much adrenaline.” 

“I mean, I’ve been riding for almost five years. It takes a little, but eventually, I got used to it,” Keith explained, eyes scanning the menu, “What do you like?” 

“Everything I’ve had. The cheeseburgers are really good. The milkshakes are… genuinely the most earth-shattering thing that I’ve ever eaten. Fries are good. They’re the skinny crispy ones, the best kind. Pidge likes the chicken fried steak.” He says, shrugging. 

Once they had ordered, they settled into a silence, both unsure of what to say. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith blurted, a moment later, frowning at himself, “For uh… your lesson this morning. I know it was kind of weird. I just… You’re an enigma,” he trailed off until his voice was barely more than a whisper. 

Lance stared back at him.

“Dude, I don’t know what that means. I know you’re old but like… english, please?” 

“Something confusing. Hard to understand,” Keith says, frowning, “And I am not  _ old _ . I’m only 23, Lance.”

“Your birthday already happened?” 

And Keith was surprised by that. He hadn’t been expecting Lance to sound so upset. He shook his head. 

“No, it’s next week. But I’m practically 23,” He said, running a hand through his bangs. 

“Those gloves aren’t cute, you know,” Lance says in response, and Keith snorts, his nose scrunching up. 

“I don’t really care,” He says, shaking his head, “I think they’re cool.”

“Well, I think you’re cool… but the fingerless gloves… you look like the lead singer of a pop-punk band from 2007,” 

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith says, but he’s grinning, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“Never,” Lance reminds, “I talk a lot. I’m always loud,”


	10. Deserving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it

Keith Kogane had always been a performer. Even from a young age, he only felt comfortable on stage. He sat on stage for their concert, his hair pulled back from his face, dressed in his tuxedo. 

He opened his folder, fingers flipping through the pieces to make sure that everything was in order. 

Lance sat down a minute later with messy hair and a frazzled expression. Keith raised his eyebrows, blinking blankly. 

“Hey,” He said, smiling over at the younger man. Lance looked over at him, forcing a tight smile. 

“Hey, Keith,” 

“You nervous or something?” Keith asked, smile widening. Lance shook his head robotically. 

“No… Why, are you?” 

“For this? No, of course not,” Keith countered, turning back to his music, “And just so you know, you have nothing to be worried about. You know this music. Let it happen,” 

And Lance’s cheeks flare a soft pink. He looks down at his lap, smiling just a little. 

 

The concert is amazing. Lance ace’s his small solo, and the three men blend flawlessly, moving together through the music. And Keith beams as they stand to acknowledge applause. It had always been Keith’s favorite sound. 

And as the students filter offstage, Keith drape’s his arm across Lance’s shoulders. 

“Hey, you sounded awesome, Lance,” He says, smiling at the brown haired boy. Lance smiles at him. 

“Really? You think?” 

“Yes! Lance, I’m serious. You sounded amazing. I’m honestly way more impressed than I should be,” He said, chuckling, and Lance raised his eyebrows, mouth agape. 

“Hey, now. No need to insult me,” 

“That wasn’t an insult!” Keith argued, letting his arm fall from Lance’s shoulders. They walk together, steps in time. 

“Well, you wouldn’t be surprised if you had more faith in me,” 

“That is not true, and you know it. I have so much faith in you, it’s stupid.” 

Lance’s cheeks flush pink, and he glances over at Keith, at a loss for words, a minute later, he cleared his throat. 

“But what about you though? You sounded insane.  What’s it like to have talent?” He teased, nudging Keith with his shoulder gently. Keith shrugged, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop. You’re so talented. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” and Keith’s voice was gentler then as if Lance were a beautiful fragile thing. 

They rounded the corner, immediately surrounded by hundreds of bodies, individuals hugging and chatting after the concert. Keith’s eyes were stuck on Lance. 

He was smiling widely, weaving through bodies, seeming to search for someone. Hunk or Pidge maybe? Keith followed him aimlessly for no real reason, just wanting to bask in his glow for a minute longer. 

And then, like running into a wall of bricks, Keith stopped dead in his tracks. 

Lance beamed, running over to Allura, practically tackling her into a bear hug. Keith’s eyes narrow. 

_ How the  _ fuck  _ do they know each other _ . 

They’re speaking softly, still hugging, and Lance turns to kiss her cheek, a beautiful laugh falling from Allura’s lips in response. Keith crosses his arms across his chest, eyes trained on the other two. 

When they finally separate, Allura takes Lance’s hand, gushing over Lance and the concert. 

Keith’s attention is pulled away when Shiro walks up to him, smiling widely. 

“It was wonderful, Keith. You sounded amazing,” He said, and Keith shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Lance. 

“Thanks… I didn’t know you were coming,” He said dumbly, staring up at Shiro. 

“I always come…” Shiro pointed out, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, I know. I mean… I didn’t know you were coming um… with-” 

He’s cut off by Allura, pulling Lance in tow. She smiles at him warmly. 

“You sounded lovely, Keith. I am so amazed by the caliber at which your group performs!” 

“I didn’t know you liked classical music,” He said, frowning, “Also, how the hell do you two know each other?” He asked, obviously confused. 

“Oh, we’re friends. I invited her to come!” Lance exclaimed, looking up at her, absolutely enamored. 

Keith grimaced, nodding once. 

“Yeah, well thanks for coming,” He said, withdrawing into himself. 

“‘Llura and I are gonna go get some dinner. Do you two want to come?” Lance asked, eyes still trapped on Allura’s stupid, perfect face. Keith’s cheeks flared red, and he shrugged, glancing up at Shiro. 

Shiro eyed him suspiciously, giving him a once over. 

“Well, I for one could eat,” He said, smiling. Keith forced a tight smile across his own face, nodding tersely. 

“Where are we going?” He forced out, watching Lance loosen his tie and undo the top button of his tux shirt. 

“I was thinking Napoli’s? Lots of pasta. I haven’t eaten all day. I was too nervous, and now I’m absolutely  _ starving _ ,” Lance supplied, looking around to make sure everyone was okay with that. 

“That sounds perfect,” Allura said, smiling kindly. Shiro agreed and Keith just nodded again, trying to talk himself down.

“Alright, well, Allura and I drove together, so if you two want a ride,” 

“Nah, I drove. I’ll meet you there,” Keith said quietly, staring directly at Shiro, not wanting to sneak another glance at Lance’s face. 

“Cool! See you there!” Lance exclaimed, and Keith felt a sharp pang in his chest. He wanted Lance to come with him, but instead, he watched as the other three strode off in the direction of the parking lot. 

Keith clenched his jaw, huffing annoyedly before going and grabbing his helmet from his office before making his way downtown. 

 

He was miserable. 

Each passing minute felt like torture as he sat there, watching Allura and Lance speak enthusiastically back and forth. 

_ What does he even see in her anyway? _

The conversation never faltered, and Keith stared blankly at his water, flagging down the waiter and ordering a glass of whiskey. Shiro raised his eyebrows at that. 

“You drove here, right?” Shiro asked, and Keith rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Oh, stop patronizing me,” He muttered, smiling gratefully when his drink came. 

He tried his hardest to ignore their banter, sipping at his drink silently. Eventually, he let his eyes linger on the brunette boy. 

He was grinning widely, causing his eyes to crinkle just the slightest bit. It was absolutely stunning. 

“What is your research on, Keith?” Lance asked curiously, and Keith frowned, putting his glass down. 

“Oh, ‘m studying women jazzers from the big band era,” He explained, smiling a little. 

“Oh, why that?” He asked, his head tilting just the slightest bit. 

“Well… I mean, women in music don’t get enough recognition for what they’ve done, and there are less people studying them. And they’re also just really talented, cool musicians. I’m enjoying it so far.” 

Lance is smiling at him, hanging on every word. Keith loves it. 

The conversation lully when their food is brought out to them, but Keith's eyes bounce between Lance and Shiro who are sitting across from him. 

“So… How did you two meet, again?” Keith asked abruptly, voice rougher than he had intended. Shiro shot him a warning look (which he promptly ignored). 

“Well, I had been hearing so much about Lance, here,” Allura began. Keith’s cheeks flared red, “And Pidge mentioned that they were friends, so I invited them to one of my get-togethers. We are kindred spirits, Lance and I. We hit it off immediately,” She finished. 

Keith chuckled sardonically. 

“Nice.” is all he said, letting them talk. He stabbed at his ravioli aggressively, ripping them apart. 

As they were paying, Keith couldn’t stand hearing them talk anymore. 

“I can take Lance home,” Keith said, interrupting Allura’s story. The other three got quiet, turning to face him, “I need to go back to fine arts anyway.” 

“You’ve been drinking,” 

“Fuck off, Shiro. I had one glass of whiskey,” He argued, clenching his jaw. 

“We really don’t mind. We also don’t mind taking you. I would hate for you to get hurt. And your apartment is so close,” Allura reasoned, but Keith shook his head. 

“God, I’m  _ fine _ . Will you all just  _ leave it _ ?” He demanded, standing up and walking outside, leaning against the side of the brick building. 

He tried to use the breathing exercises that his therapist had taught him. He tried to think about anything other than Allura’s hands on Lance. Or her  _ lips _ . Their words kept replaying in his head, and he couldn’t stop it. 

He turned, punching the brick three times, embracing the sharp sting of his knuckles. 

“Jesus, Keith, stop,” He hears from behind. He tenses, eyes stuck on his shoes.

“Keith, c’mon. Can you look at me?” Lance asked softly, but Keith just shook his head, blinking rapidly to avoid the inevitable. 

“Keith, what’s wrong?” He asked, sounding smaller now as he placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder. 

They remained silent for a moment before Keith spoke. 

“Do you love her?” his voice was barely a whisper. Lance sucked in a breath, clearly caught off guard by the question. 

“I… what? Keith… I don’t understand why the hell you need to-” 

“Do you  _ love her _ ?” He demanded, his tone brash. 

“It isn’t any of your business,” Lance whispered, pulling his hand away. 

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” 

And Keith feels like he’s drowning in the following silence. He examines his bleeding knuckles, unwilling to take his eyes off of the crimson. 

“You have no right,” Lance says, a bit sharper than before, “That’s none of your business. I don’t need your permission.” 

“My permission to what? Fuck Allura? You’re right, Lance. You don’t need my approval. You can fuck whoever you want,” He spat, and He listened to lance backing up, pulling away from him. 

“Oh my god. Do you  _ hear  _ yourself, Keith?” He asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit, “I can’t believe you think it’s okay to say shit like that,” 

“Shit like what?” Keith demanded, turning around. He refused to wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks, staring at Lance with wild eyes. 

“Whatever, Keith. I don’t have to stand here and listen to this. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried about you, okay?  _ You _ , Keith. I’m always stuck on  _ you _ ,” He said, voice rising a little bit with each statement. 

“Not that you deserve it. Not that you deserve any of it,” and then he was gone, back inside of the restaurant. 

Keith’s eyes were lingering on the door. 

_ I’m always stuck on  _ you _. Not that you deserve it. _


	11. Fondness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a sequel. Let me know if you want one.  
> Thanks for indulging me in this. I had so much fun writing it
> 
> I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I'm wasted. And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you tasted.

 

**_Keith:_ ** _ Lance, I’m sorry.  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ I was such an asshole, and you didn’t deserve it.  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ Lance, can you answer me?  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ Please? _

**_Keith:_ ** _ I know that I fucked up, but I’d really like a chance to talk about it. I’d really like to make it up to you.  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ Okay, I’m sorry. I get it. I’ll leave you alone.  _

Keith stared at the messages, sighing loudly and tossing his phone onto the other side of his couch. His eyes traveled the quiet living room. It looked empty, nothing but the tv and furniture. 

He wonders briefly if there were a way for him to go back in time to the bar, a way for him to initiate a friendship instead of whatever the fuck they were. Keith squeezed his eyes shut, jumping up when his phone buzzed, stretching to check the message. 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ What the hell happened, Keith? Lance is upset.  _

Keith stared, not sure how to respond to that. He let the silence settle again, basking in the emptiness, willing it to fill him up too. He had never been good at cleaning up his messes, too brash and aggressive. He was a bull in a china shop, too rough around the edges to ever be trusted with something so fragile. 

His phone buzzes again. 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ You can’t avoid it this time, Keith. What happened? _

**_Keith:_ ** _ I fucked up. Again. Like I always do. I texted him, but he won’t answer me.  _

**_Shiro:_ ** _ I think you should give him a night to calm down. Try talking to him tomorrow.  _

Keith didn’t answer, turning his phone off and sighing loudly, stripping out of his tuxedo and going to wash away all of his bad decisions. 

Kith’s true talent had always been avoidance. 

 

Lance avoids Keith for as long as he can, calling in sick to his lesson and hiding in weird nooks in the music building. He knows that he can’t keep it up forever, but at the moment, he doesn’t care, letting his instincts guide him. 

_ Who the hell does he think he is anyway? He doesn’t own me. I can love whoever I want to.  _

He thought bitterly, chuckling annoyedly. It was Keith’s 23rd birthday. He had wanted to surprise him, plan a party with his few friends. But now, he didn’t even want to talk to him. He kept staring at his phone, remembering the open text he had formulated that morning. It seemed unfair to ignore him on his birthday. 

He can wait a few more hours. 

He ends up sending Keith the text at ten o’clock that night after getting out of the shower. It had been consuming him all day, the desire to let Keith know that he was on his mind. But he was too frustrated to deal with the older man again. 

**_Lance:_ ** _ Happy birthday. I hope you had a good day.  _

The response comes quicker than he expected

**_Keith:_ ** _ You remembered.  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ It sucked, but thank you.  _

**_Keith:_ ** _ I miss you _

**_Keith:_ ** _ But not in a weird way. It’s just been a few weeks. _

**_Lance:_ ** _ I have homework, Keith. I have to go _

**_Keith:_ ** _ Okay, I’m sorry. I hope you have a good night.  _

 

Keith spends the rest his birthday drunk on Shiro’s couch, watching a documentary. He falls asleep curled up against the throw pillows, a bottle of crown wrapped in his arms. He had never looked so pathetic. 

 

The rest of the semester creeps by filled with too many concerts and weird glances between Keith and lance, both of whom were unsure of how to fix the mess that Keith had created. They worked tirelessly to perfect Lance’s solo piece. They both wanted to prove that he had done good work across the course of the semester. 

Lance’s final performance for his lesson was practically flawless, and Keith had never been more proud of anyone in his entire life. And as the day ended, Keith swallowed thickly, pulling his hair back into a ponytail before riding to the diner that Lance frequents, swallowing thickly as he enters the front door. 

He scans the tables, his eyes finding a familiar head of chestnut hair. He walks over nervously, frowning a little. 

“Hey, beautiful,” He says, voice quiet. 

“Keith… what are you doing?” 

“You here alone?” he tried, and Lance frowned, shaking his head. 

“No, you can’t use my lines on me. Go outside, come back in, and try again,” Lance said, crossing his arms. 

Keith stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He had never been very good at flirting. Or apologizing. He frowned, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

“Lance, I’m sorry,” He tried, but the younger man shook his head. 

“I’m serious, Keith,” He snapped, and Keith nodded dejectedly, leaving the diner and stalling, staring at the neon sign for a minute before taking in a sharp breath and going inside. 

“Lance,” He said, marching up to him briskly. Lance just looks confused, turning in his chair. 

“I fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m a complete and utter disaster, but it’s just because I don’t know how to do this. This is uncharted territory for me, but… but if you’d let me, I want to figure it out. With you,” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I was a complete idiot, and you deserve the entire universe. And if you never want to see me again, that’s fine. But I need you, I think. I think I’ve needed you since the very first time that I set eyes on you, okay?”

“You’re causing a scene,” Lance said, the corner of his mouth lifting a little bit. 

“I don’t care, Lance. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, okay? Just you,” he said, nodding once, expression still serious. 

“Keith, what are you doing?” He asked, sounding more exasperated than anything else. Keith sucked in a shaky breath. 

“I’m not your teacher anymore. You took your final. I submitted your grade.” Lance just frowns in response, still not seeming to understand. 

“Okay, but I still don’t really get what’s-”

“I love you,” Keith blurted out, his cheeks flushing a very familiar shade of red, “And I really want to try. For real. No bullshit. No assholery. Just you. And me,” He tried again, wanting the younger man to understand. 

Lance stares up at him awestruck, shaking his head slowly. 

“Wow, okay… I mean, yeah. You’re amazing, and I’ve wanted to know you since the very beginning, but you’re acting crazy, Keith. And I’m still mad at you,” Lance chides, and Keith nods, his face falling a bit. 

“I am crazy. You’re right. This is crazy. I just thought… I don’t know,” He said, chuckling and shaking his head, “I don’t know how to do this, Lance. Especially since I royally fucked up. I don’t know how to take all of that back.” 

Lance smiles at him, glancing at the other side of the booth. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” is all that he says, shaking his head. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Keith. I want to try… it can’t be much worse than the first time.” 

Keith laughs, sitting down across from him and grinning, not knowing where to go from there. He just stared, taking in the tan boy’s expression. His eyes were soft, and his lips upturned. He had missed that look. Fondness. 

“Oh, and Keith?”

“Yeah, lance?”

“I love you too, you insufferable asshole.” 


End file.
